Angel Face
by pennwise
Summary: Santa Carla was really racking up the list of missing persons. Despite having her own matters to deal with, Wendy was a little worried. And when she began to notice the strange group of boys with hypnotizing gazes prowling the boardwalk, she couldn't help but sense something was off. Especially with the boy with the angelic face who drew her in the most. Set before movie. MarkoxOC.
1. The Glance

**Disclaimer: I don't own _The Lost Boys_ or anything recognizable associated with it. I only own my characters and the plot of this story.**

* * *

 **1\. The Glance / A Prologue of Sorts**

"Quincy, are you even listening to me?"

The older boy, still partially slack-jawed, tilted his head in her direction though he kept his eyes dutifully on the giggling woman's backside as she passed slowly with her friends.

"Huh?" he said intelligently.

Wendy licked her front teeth and counted down from five inside her head before swallowing down her annoyance.

"I said," she repeated with unsteady calmness. "If we budget your two paychecks this week and use the savings from my last paycheck, we can pay the two late fees for our electric and rent."

She held the pencil an inch above her notebook, ready to write down the numbers while waiting for his confirmation. When she heard nothing but the incessant _ding-ding-ding we have a winner!_ of the high striker tower game behind her she turned her head and clenched her jaw when she realized her brother was once again not paying her a speck of attention. Quincy was running his fingers through his dirty-blonde hair, grinning suggestively at the woman he was ogling earlier. She stood with three other girls at the concession stand, smiling shyly back as her friends ordered.

"Quincy!" Wendy snapped. Quincy huffed before whipping around to face her, a scowl hardening his sharp features.

"God, what, Wen?" he exclaimed. She gestured to the notebook and bills splayed out over the blue mesh table.

"This is kind of important here! If we don't figure out how to pay our late fees we're going to get a warning from the landlord," she told him heatedly. "Which wouldn't be an issue in the first place if you hadn't forgotten to pay them."

Quincy rolled his eyes. "Is this really the best place to talk about finances?"

He waved to the flashing lights and echoing screams of the Santa Carla boardwalk. The scent of freshly cooked hotdogs and funnel cakes wafted in the air and though tempting, Wendy already had an order of chicken nuggets from McDonalds prior to making the trip down to the fair. The same couldn't be said for Quincy who had the biggest order of curly fries she'd ever seen piled high in a red and white plastic bowl next to what had to have been a 20 oz cup of orange soda. Wendy got heart palpitations just looking at it all.

"Well if you'd agreed to look at this earlier before I went to work we wouldn't have to worry about it but you insisted on sleeping in until one," she retorted. "This was the only time I could get your attention since these late fees were due, well, _today_. So," she said with a heavy sigh. "I ask again, you're getting paid tomorrow right?"

Quincy rubbed his hands down his face before nodding. "Yeah, I'm picking up my check from the shop tomorrow and Mac'll give me cash today for running the rides tonight."

"Okay," Wendy nodded in relief, finally feeling like they were making progress. "I'll write a check tonight for the rent and slip it under Betty's door when I get home. Make sure you take everything to the bank tomorrow morning because you know she'll cash that check the second the bank opens. I'll take the money out of savings and give it to you tomorrow after my shift."

"Yeah, okay fine."

Wendy exhaled tiredly. It wasn't that her and Quincy didn't get along, it was just hard for her to keep her patience with him still. And she'd had seventeen years of practice. Wendy didn't want to say Quincy conformed to all the stereotypes of someone who didn't finish high school but the evidence was kind of stacked against him. He worked part time at the auto shop down the road from their hole-in-the-wall apartment and over the summer he took night shifts at the local fairgrounds either tearing tickets or running the rides. It wasn't exactly the American dream and both of them felt the brunt of the poor pay, especially since Wendy's job washing dishes at the diner didn't exactly pay generously. And unlike her brother she had every intentions of graduating high school, which meant she could only hold a full time job in the summer when school wasn't in session.

Wendy ran a hand through her messy ponytail. She sensed a talk coming on (it was a weekly occurrence as of late) and she knew doing it in public would probably be the safest bet because then Quincy couldn't yell and throw a fit without looking like a threat to a minor. Wendy was used to his temper and knew he was all bark and no bite but the rest of the human population did not.

"Look," she said carefully but not before grinning mockingly at the girl and her friends who left once they realized they lost Quincy's interest. "You're not my official guardian. You never fought for custody of me because you knew you'd lose and as far as CPS is concerned I'm living the cookie-cutter life with Uncle Lewis in Milwaukee. We've got to keep as little attention on ourselves as possible if we don't want to be found out. As impossible and unbelievably infuriating as you are, I don't want to live with anyone else," Wendy leaned forward when Quincy looked away, clearly uncomfortable with the emotional turn the conversation took. "You've got to keep it together. I get that having to take care of your annoying little sister wasn't in your 'totally rad bachelor plans' but I don't want to be put in the system."

Quincy licked his lips. He reluctantly flashed his hard sea-green eyes in her direction and there was a fondness there, however suppressed and exasperated it was.

"I don't want you put in the system either," he told her and even though his tone suggested he was only saying it for her benefit, she knew it was true. "And you're not annoying," he quickly correctly wryly, "all the time."

"Thanks," Wendy cracked a half-smile. She waved her pencil at the notebook. "So are you okay with all this?"

"Yeah, yeah," he stuffed three fries in his mouth before frowning at the papers. "Now put that shit away before someone sees it."

"What?" Wendy grinned even though she did as he asked, stacking the bills before slipping them inside the notebook and closing it. "Afraid someone'll take them and pay our bills for us? What a tragedy that would be."

"Whatever," Quincy slurped at his orange soda and Wendy packed her things in her wool backpack before resting her arms on the mesh tabletop.

"What time do you work 'til?" she asked, drumming her fingers absently.

"Eleven," he said with his mouth full. Wendy grimaced. How he was so popular with girls she'd never understand.

She liked to think he adapted manners whenever he took a girl out but she knew better. He brought home girls all the time who were subjected to his disgusting room that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. It probably hadn't. He never tried to impress them but maybe that's what drew them to him. He didn't try to be someone he wasn't. That someone being a person with a sense of hygiene and decent self-respect. She liked to think she was the only human of the female variety he really cared about, not that he showed it much other than paying half the rent and utilities. As the unofficial adult of the household that responsibility should've technically fallen to him as a whole but Wendy had more or less gotten over it at this point.

She didn't know what her life would've been like had she been put in the system. Probably not very promising now since she was only nine months away from turning eighteen, but at the beginning when everything started she was only fifteen. Even though chances were high her life could've been a bit more prosperous had she been handed off to some rich family in the suburbs, she didn't regret her decision to stay with Quincy. He was family and nothing could beat that.

Even if she was counting down the days until she turned eighteen.

Quincy studied her face for a few seconds before swallowing the food in his mouth and pulling out a green bill from his breast pocket.

"Here," he said offhandedly, tossing it to her. She quickly caught it and her brows wrinkled as she stared down at the ten-dollar bill.

"What's this for?"

"Tickets," he said. "You should try to enjoy yourself for once. You know, act your age. Do stupid shit."

"I shouldn't take this," she told him, holding it back out to him. "This should go to the rent or something else important."

Quincy waved her off. "Ten dollars won't kill us. When's the last time you stopped acting like an old lady?"

"What?" Wendy asked, affronted. "I don't act like an old lady!"

"You remind me of Grandma Molly," he said with raised eyebrows, stuffing a few more fries in his mouth with no eloquence. "You balance your checkbook, you shop for groceries every Sunday… the only thing you're missing is a book full of coupons," he paused and squinted at the guilty look on her face she was trying to suppress. His eyes widened. "You do! Where is it?" he demanded.

"In the glove box," she admitted meekly. Quincy stared accusingly at her as if she'd personally wronged him and she quickly defended herself, "It helps! I've got two dollars off toilet paper coming up and you go through at least two rolls a week! You should be thanking me."

"Unbelievable," he muttered as he finished off his food. "You're seventeen, not seventy-one. You'll be a hundred before you even turn eighteen. Take the money."

"And do what exactly?" she waved emphatically at the crowds of people chattering along the boardwalk. "Walk up to a stranger and ask to join in on the fun? I've got no one to get on any of the rides with."

"Where's Naomi?" he asked, tossing his scraps in the trashcan near their table.

"She's with her family in New Mexico. She won't be back 'til next week."

"Well, as long as you don't take candy from anyone…"

"I'm not going to hang out with strangers, Quincy," she deadpanned. Quincy lifted his arms in defeat as he stood from the table.

"I don't care, do what you want with it. You can either take the bus home or wait until my shift ends. Up to you."

He gave her a noogie, which she did not appreciate because the hair he dug his knuckles into was pulled back neatly in a ponytail, before ambling down the boardwalk to his next set of rides. She scowled after him and pulled her hair out of the ponytail to readjust it.

With a sigh she glanced around the area, feeling awkward and slightly out of place. Groups of people passed by her, all laughing amongst themselves while carrying prizes and lines of tickets and having the time of their lives.

Naomi Watson was probably Wendy's closest friend. They'd only known each other since high school started; they were assigned the same lab table in Biology and were reluctantly forced to get to know each other. Naomi was more of a social butterfly than Wendy was in the sense that she had a lot more friends than Wendy did. But like Wendy, a lot of socializing exhausted her and she liked to sit down with a good book every now and then and just _be_. Wendy felt proud knowing Naomi spent most of her time with her when she wasn't with her boyfriend, Gary. They'd been together a little over a year and though Wendy didn't know Gary very well, she could see the appeal. He was an academic; pretty smart considering he didn't care much for studies. He was just naturally gifted upstairs and it paid to be best friends with his girlfriend, especially when he was an A+ student in math which, regretfully, was Wendy's worse subject.

Wendy bit the inside of her cheek before swinging her legs over the bench and standing up. She clutched the backpack tight over her shoulder and made her way off the boardwalk to the ticket booth where she paid for twenty tickets. She pocketed the cash she didn't use and headed down the boardwalk, walking slowly as she took in the sights.

There were ball tosses and water gun relays, most of which Wendy had already played dozens of times as a kid when Quincy used to take her. She had some good memories at this boardwalk, like the time their Dad bought them remote controlled cars and they raced them down the boardwalk. She had to have been about seven or eight at the time which meant Quincy was around eleven.

There was also the time Quincy first told her he dropped out of school. They were standing by the fish bowls when he told her. Wendy threw a fit, both out of shock and just a smidge of jealousy because she still had her entire high school education ahead of her, but Quincy said he'd buy her a goldfish if she swore not to tell Mom. She named the goldfish Ronaldo. Two nights later when he told their Mom he wasn't going to graduate she went on a second bender. It was probably the last real conversation she ever had with him.

She had her first kiss when she was sixteen by the Crystal Lil's mirror maze. It was with a boy she only talked to once after it happened, which Naomi still gave her grief for to this day. Naomi didn't like to consider Alan Wendy's first boyfriend but Wendy still liked to think he was. Even though the kiss was kind of awkward and uncoordinated and slightly forced it was still her first kiss. She could still taste the sticky cotton candy from his lips whenever she thought about it which wasn't exactly _unpleasant_.

She breathed in the crisp nighttime air as the crashing of waves beneath the boardwalk roared against the shore. She listened to the rattling of the winding roller coaster as it zoomed overhead and she stepped aside to lean against the railing, gazing out at the black sky with city lights twinkling in the far distance. She still had over an hour to go before Quincy's shift was over and she didn't really fancy another dirty bus ride home. Wendy opened her palm and glanced down at the sheet of red tickets that had Santa Carla's logo on the back beneath a faded black star.

She thought about looking for her brother so she could ask for the car keys and maybe take a nap in the VW Golf but since she already spent four dollars on tickets she figured she may as well put them to some use. She pushed away from the railing and slipped through the throng of people, looking for a game she hadn't played in a while. She found a dart board kiosk and found that it was mostly empty so she handed them her ticket and tossed a few darts. She didn't have the best aim and it clearly showed but towards the end she managed to hit one of the inner rings which apparently earned her a small prize.

She chose a pink stuffed monkey about the size of her hand and thanked the men working the booth before stuffing the monkey in her backpack. She wandered around the boardwalk another half hour or so, stopping at various booths to play their games. She won some sort of rubber bracelet at one point and tugged it onto her wrist before finding a bench to sit at near the carousel. The typical high-pitched melody played as the carousel spun, children either sitting with their parents or with their friends as they giggled.

She was about to call it quits when a group of boys caught her eye on the far right side of the carousel. They were weaving through a group of parents that were watching their children on the ride and something about them drew Wendy in, like they disturbed the air around them leaving the atmosphere buzzing and Wendy's arms feeling tingly.

The man in front seemed to demand authority in the purposeful way he walked. He was clad in a long dark coat with equally dark clothes underneath that contrasted wildly with his platinum blonde hair. Despite the youthfulness of his face he had light facial hair dusting his jawline and above his lip. There were two taller boys behind him and another on the shorter side. Two of them had blonde hair almost as bright as his except theirs was either wavy or curly. The tallest one had dark hair with some sort of tribal necklace dangling against his collarbone. She'd never seen people dressed the way they were before which spoke volumes considering it was the eighties. They were all mesh and leather, though the short one had a strikingly colorful jacket with sewn patches covering its surface.

It wasn't unusual to see new faces in Santa Carla, California. It wasn't a small town by any means and Wendy wasn't one to recognize passing faces, but she couldn't help but think their faces were some of the most memorable she'd ever seen and she couldn't figure out why.

Ironically they seemed to be walking in order by their level of seriousness. The man in front had a blank face, though his eyes were cold and calculating as they danced over the crowd as if in search of something, or someone. The one to his immediate left, the tall brunette, had a similar seriousness but his shoulders were less stiff and occasionally he appeared to crack a grin at whatever was being exchanged between the two blondes behind him. The tallest blonde seemed the most vivacious, a large smile covering his face that oozed cunning and wit. The shorter blonde who seemed to have a knack for chewing on his thumbnail was grinning behind his hand, his sharp eyes flashing a sort of wicked charm that caused Wendy's insides to churn.

They passed by her without a fleeting glance, their attention obviously elsewhere. The air no longer felt electrified around Wendy but she still felt an invisible tug that pulled her eyes towards them, following their every move like a magnet. The people around them seemed to part naturally to let them pass, gazes lingering on their retreating forms from males and females alike. It wasn't until they were lost in the crowd that Wendy's gaze fell and she blinked in surprise.

Where did that come from? Since when did she develop a staring problem? She rubbed her stomach, still feeling the ghostly pull from before in her gut, a puzzled wrinkle in her brows.

Her curiosity towards the four boys lingered but before she could process it further a pair of hands smacked the tops of her shoulders and she shrieked, jerking back as an obnoxious laugh filtered in through her ears.

" _Seriously?_ "

Wendy glared up at Quincy who couldn't pull himself together as he doubled over in laughter at the startled look on her face. She placed a hand over her hammering heart as if to steady it before shrugging out of his grip and standing from the bench.

"Having fun watching the underage children creepily?" he asked with a shit-eating grin. Wendy rolled her eyes.

"Bite me."

He laughed again. "I finished my shift twenty minutes early. I just need to fill out my timesheet and get the cash from Mac. You wanna join or are you still busy lurking?"

Wendy scowled at his mockery. "Lead the way, jerk."

"Ouch, Wen, watch the language. It might get you into trouble one day."

Wendy had fun glaring a hole into the back of Quincy's head all the way to the trailer on the far end of the boardwalk. Quincy pulled open the door and winked at her.

"I'll only be a minute."

Wendy smiled sarcastically and crossed her arms over her chest as the door slammed shut behind him. She waited impatiently as the wind picked up, rubbing her hands up and down her jacket-clad arms. She thought back to the four boys she saw before her asshole brother decided to give her a heart attack. Even just picturing them inside her head she felt something tingly race beneath her flesh.

If she'd known that chance encounter was going to be like a domino effect that would completely change her life, maybe she wouldn't have taken such an interest in them. With the advantage of hindsight, this was when the first domino fell.

* * *

"You at least had fun visiting your family, right?"

"If you call listening to my two uncles blatantly insult my mother every chance they got, the five thousand mosquito bites I have on my legs, and the night my grandpa got drunk and took his pants off 'fun' then yeah, I had a total blast."

Wendy's mouth hung open and she had an inner battle with herself of trying to decide what facial expression to use: amused or horrified. Naomi nodded at the conflicted look on her friend's face.

"Yeah, that's my life. This is why my parents and I decided leaving New Mexico for good was better for everyone's health. Mental and physical."

"No kidding," Wendy shook her head. "And I thought having an estranged Mom was exciting."

"Exactly," Naomi sighed and leaned against the counter as Wendy continued scrubbing the dirty dishes in the warm soap water. She sighed and rested her chin in her palm. "I would've called you but my grandma didn't want any out of state calls made on the landline for whatever reason."

"It's okay," Wendy chuckled, sitting aside a clean plate to dry. "I wouldn't have had anything interesting to say. Quincy was being his usual irresponsible self so," she looked up with only a slightly sarcastic grin, "everything's right in the world."

Naomi hummed. "You said something happened on the boardwalk the other night though. You never told me what it was."

Wendy's heart rate spiked at the thought of the four men.

She wanted to pretend that Naomi bringing them up was the first time she'd thought about them since that night but she'd be wrong. It was never anything major but she had fleeting images of their faces flash through her mind on the oddest occasions, like when she was walking home from the grocery and could've sworn she spotted one of their faces on the billboard outside her apartment building. Or the time a newspaper piece got caught on her shoe on the bus and she thought she saw a picture of them splashed underneath the latest headline.

It was all just inside her head but still, that was weird right? She didn't even know. What she did know was that it was widely out of character for her to be thinking so much about people that were complete strangers to her. Maybe Quincy was on to something when he called her a creep.

"Oh that," Wendy said with pursed lips. Naomi caught the way her mood shifted and furrowed her eyebrows curiously. Wendy finished the other plate in the sink before drying her hands on a ratty towel. "It was really weird," she said as she leaned against the counter next to Naomi. "I saw these four guys by the carousel. They looked like they were around my brother's age but I couldn't really tell. I don't know, there was just something really strange about them. The way they dressed, the way they carried themselves…"

"You think they were carnies?" Naomi asked. "There's a bunch of weird people that work at fairs. Including your brother."

Wendy smiled lightly before her frown returned.

"No, I don't think so. There was just something about them that made me not want to look away."

"Were they good looking?" Naomi asked with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Wendy almost felt like she was going to flush but instead she managed to roll her eyes instead.

"Reasonably attractive," she relented even though it was a complete understatement. She didn't need any longer than the six or seven seconds she got of them strolling by to realize they were easy on the eyes. Everyone around her seemed to think so too.

"I want to see them," Naomi stated with a gleeful look on her face that worried Wendy. "We should go to the boardwalk tonight."

Wendy gave her a skeptical look.

"Do you honestly believe we're going to see them again? What are the chances of that out of the thousands of people that go there on a daily basis?"

"It's worth a shot," Naomi shrugged before she grinned. "I want to see who's gotten you so flustered."

"I'm not _flustered_ ," Wendy denied even though she wasn't sure she believed that. "What about Gary? Have you seen him yet since you got back?"

"No," Naomi said, her lips turning downward into a pout. "We have a date tomorrow night though which leaves me free tonight to search for some hunks with my best gal pal."

Wendy shook her head at Naomi's cheeky wink and opened her mouth to respond, only to hear a shout come from the other side of the wall.

"Number six's order's ready," the head chef called. Naomi groaned and slumped forward.

"That's my table," she pushed herself away from the counter and readjusted her apron before steeling Wendy with a determined glare. "We're going to the boardwalk tonight. No questions asked. Your brother's working again right?"

"Yes," Wendy sighed because there was no use arguing with Naomi when she wanted something.

"Good, we'll hitch a ride with him."

Wendy bit the inside of her cheek and went back to washing dishes. She didn't have high hopes that they'd find those boys. It's not like the only thing they had to do was parade around the Santa Carla boardwalk mysteriously all night. They probably had lives, unlike Wendy. But what Naomi wanted, Naomi got.

The rest of her shift went by relatively fast. There were plenty of dishes to clean after the dinner rush and by the time she finally left the back room Naomi was already gone, probably at home getting ready for the night. Neither one of them were very keen on parties or going out of their way on a summer night unless they knew the majority of the people they were inevitably going to meet but on rare occasions Naomi wanted to go out and explore and Wendy didn't feel it was her right to turn Naomi down. She didn't expect Naomi to dress to impress and when she opened the door to her apartment nearly an hour and a half later, she was proven right as she greeted the jean-clad girl who had an oversized grey sweatshirt covering her top half. It was probably Gary's.

Quincy huffed and puffed all the way to the boardwalk. He was never fond of Naomi, especially in large doses and close proximity, something Wendy never understood. If Naomi was four years older she would probably be exactly Quincy's type, what with her dark hair, olive-toned skin and equally dark eyes. Instead, the two of them argued over meaningless things every chance they got and if Wendy didn't know any better she'd think the two were secretly seeing each other. If it weren't for the fact that Naomi had Gary and Quincy didn't know the meaning of the world 'relationship'.

"Stop playing with my cassette tapes."

"I want to listen to this one!"

"I don't care. My car, my rules. Stop moving them around!"

"Can't I _look_ at them?"

"No, you're messing up the order. Wendy, control your pest!"

"Wendy, control your test tube parasite brother."

"Both of you can shut up, we're here."

Wendy practically threw herself out the back door, rubbing her temples as Naomi followed suit with a smirk on her lips. Wendy scowled at her before flinching at the deliberate smack to the back of her head Quincy delivered. She rubbed her head with a heated glare as Quincy strolled past them.

"Have fun, losers," he smiled plainly before making his way towards the trailer to get his signature Santa Carla Boardwalk overshirt all employees were required to wear.

"I can't believe you're related to him," Naomi said.

"I can't believe the two of you have hated each other for three years," Wendy retorted as they approached the ticket booth.

"It's one of my many hobbies," Naomi grinned before paying for her half of the tickets.

The ticket handler passed them their tickets and they made their way down the boardwalk in search of a grease-filled concession stand for their late night dinner. They stopped at a classic stand with a selection of hot dogs, nachos, burgers and an assortment of fries and drinks. They ordered some food and waited for it at one of the tables nearby as a line grew at the window.

"Where did you say you saw them again?" Naomi leaned in to ask as the chatter of the crowd grew louder as more people arrived.

"Over by the carousel," Wendy said before glancing over at her with a raised eyebrow. "You don't really think they'll be there again, do you?"

"Of course not," Naomi answered airily. "Just trying to get all the facts straight."

"Spoken like a true detective," Wendy teased. Naomi made a noise in the back of her throat.

Naomi's father was a detective for the Santa Carla sheriff's department who seemed eager to have Naomi follow in his footsteps even though she wanted to carry a more artistic route with her paintings. However dismayed Joseph Watson was every time Naomi turned him down, he always managed to pick himself back up. As much as Naomi detested her father's career—or rather, the way he constantly pressured his career onto her—Wendy found it fascinating. Especially since there'd been an elevation of reported missing persons in the last two months. He always managed to slip a few details of the cases to her even though she had a feeling he probably wasn't supposed to. Wendy suspected he wouldn't if she were anyone else. He was one of the detectives that followed her mother's case back when it was still active a couple years ago.

Their orders were called and they retrieved their food before scarfing it down. Once they were finished they tossed their scraps and then meandered down the boardwalk with no destination in particular. They chatted about menial things, making theories about what senior year would be like and what kind of cars they wanted to save for after graduation. Naomi's parents had a fund set aside for a car of her choice once they received her final report card. If she finished off the year with at least a B average they'd offer to match whatever money she saved and put it towards her first car.

"I haven't really been able to save much for a car," Wendy admitted once Naomi asked her what she wanted to get. "When I'm not paying for half of the rent or spotting Quincy for the electric I'm paying for groceries or helping him with repairs on the Volkswagen."

"You shouldn't have to do that," Naomi said with a sour look marring her usually pretty face. "You shouldn't have to pay for rent or electricity or water or any of that stuff. Your name isn't even on the lease, it's his. If he's old enough to buy beer, he's old enough to man up and pay for his own place."

Wendy bit her lip.

"You've got to remember, Nomi, it was our Mom's apartment before ours. It was either he took up the lease or we found someplace else to live and there was nowhere else we could afford. It's crappy, I know, but we have no choice. And I think he had to grow up a lot faster than he wanted to just like I had to."

"He's the one who dropped out of high school _two months_ before he was supposed to graduate. There's a limited number of brain power at work there if you decide to do something so stupid," Naomi told her as they turned down a strip where a selection of stores were located. "It's his own fault. I don't get why you defend him all the time."

"Because he's my brother," Wendy said simply. She looked up at Naomi who paused mid-step. "He's my brother and he's all I have left."

Naomi was silent for a moment as she considered her words. Then she twined her arm with Wendy's and pulled them forward again with an exaggerated skip in her step.

"Well you got me," she said in a much lighter voice, smiling crookedly and showing the dimple in her left cheek.

"Yeah," Wendy huffed a laugh. "You want to help pay rent?"

"I can't even afford to buy a box of ramen," Naomi snorted and they paused between two shops as a crowd of people left through one of the doors.

"You've got like nine hundred dollars saved," Wendy deadpanned though there was a smile playing on her lips. "If we split the rent into thirds you'd have your half paid for until October."

Naomi inclined her head in false consideration. "Tempting but I think I'd rather have a new car."

Wendy chuckled before stealing a glance around the area. Naomi followed her example as they leaned against the building, staring at passersby without really seeing them. There were so many people crowding the fair that they all seemed to skirt by in a blur.

"So do you see them anywhere?" Naomi whispered conspiratorially.

"I haven't even been looking for them," Wendy confessed laughingly. "I don't think mentioning them is going to magically make them appear. I'm pretty sure it was just a one-time thing. And I was probably delusional from lack of sleep since I worked the late shift the day before. I bet I imagined the whole thing."

"Please," Naomi scoffed. "We'll find them. Mark my words," she turned the other way as Wendy hummed a doubtful 'mhm' and then she felt a nudge in her side. "Hey Wen, remember that guy you were crushing on last year?"

"What?" Wendy's forehead wrinkled in confusion.

"You know, that guy you had to sit next to in Geometry. The one who always asked you for pencils and you kept having to buy new ones?"

"Todd Pilkington?" Wendy asked in a strained voice. Her cheeks reddened at the thought of him. Even though her crush had mostly dissipated her heart still jumped in her throat whenever she saw him in person and that was the last thing she wanted to happen in front of Naomi. Naomi would never let her hear the end of it.

"That's the one," Naomi muttered, smirk evident in her voice. "Sweet of you to remember his full name, by the way."

"Shut up," Wendy said through clenched teeth, eyes scanning the area quickly.

"He's heading this way."

Wendy followed Naomi's strikingly obvious gaze and her cheeks warmed at the sight of the boy who was playfully shoving one of his friends as they headed down the strip in Wendy's and Naomi's direction. There was a girl not much taller than Wendy with red hair clinging to his side as she laughed along with him and he wound his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. She was very pretty. Wendy hated the fact that her gut churned at the sight and, ignoring Naomi's giggles of delight, she tugged them into the store closest to them to escape Todd's path.

Naomi laughed outright the second they were out of sight.

"You're still gone for him, that is so adorable," Naomi cooed and Wendy swatted her hand away before she could pinch her cheeks.

"You're unbelievable," Wendy snapped, though a smile was threatening to break across her lips. Naomi tossed her head back and laughed again as Wendy tried recovering from the full-body flush she just experienced, taking in the sight of the store they practically fell into. It appeared to be some sort of video shop with neon glowing lights and retro accents.

"Anything I can help you find, ladies?" an older gentleman with floppy brown hair and round glasses asked at the front counter. Naomi seemed startled by the question, having not been paying much attention to where they ended up, but Wendy shook her head politely.

"No thank you, just browsing," she answered for lack of anything better to say. The man nodded with a quick smile before returning to the newspaper he had in his hands. She turned to Naomi. "Why do you always have to embarrass me?"

"Come on," Naomi opened her arms a bit. "It's like you don't even know me."

The two girls shuffled through the store and began sifting through the tapes on display. They migrated from the humor section to horror and Naomi pulled a few tapes from their shelves to read the excerpts on the back.

"You think we should rent one of these for tonight?" she asked as she skimmed the text set over a gloomy dark background.

Wendy made to peer over Naomi's shoulder when she caught sight of a haze of bright blonde hair out of her peripherals. She whipped her head around and her eyes widened at the sight. She leaned at an angle to see if all of them were there and when she counted all four she nearly tripped over her two feet as she yanked Naomi behind one of the shelves.

"What—"

"That's them!" Wendy whisper-shouted as she ducked down to watch through the large slit in the shelf.

"Where?" Naomi exclaimed, looking in every direction but the right one.

"At the counter talking to the old man," Wendy said, perching her chin on the shelf. There was a moment of silence as Naomi studied the four from head to toe.

"Reasonably attractive," Naomi snorted. "More like stunningly attractive. Where are these guys from? And more importantly: can we go there with them?"

"You are in a relationship," Wendy scolded though her voice trembled as a laugh threatened to escape her throat.

She squinted at the scene taking place, surprised to find that the stern blonde one seemed to be in a heated argument with the man behind the counter. The man was waving his arms emphatically while the blonde stared at him with something akin to annoyance. His three friends only seemed partially invested in the discussion as the two other blondes were prowling through the magazines nearby while the tall brunette stood rather closely to a girl with black hair.

"Wonder if that's his girlfriend," Naomi mused as she caught sight of the girl as well.

"Do I sense disappointment?" Wendy asked, cracking a grin. Naomi didn't immediately reply.

"Maybe," she eventually settled with.

"You're in a relationship," Wendy repeated except this time she did laugh.

"Shh, I'm trying to hear what they're saying," Naomi whispered, swatting the air near Wendy's face.

Wendy strained to listen to the argument but knew she wasn't going to hear much other than muffled voices. She directed her attention to the two blondes and analyzed their outfits more closely. The taller one had a black jacket on that seemed to have some patches sewn onto the left sleeve, but they were very subtle in comparison to his friend's jacket that was all colors and designs. Wendy spotted a hint of leopard print on the right sleeve and there seemed to be some sort of portrait sewn onto the jacket on his left shoulder blade. She never realized before how long his hair was, cascading in tight curls down his back.

"I can't hear anything, can you?" Naomi asked quietly a few seconds later. Wendy had hardly been trying but she shook her head anyway.

"Nothing."

The tall blonde one said something that must've been funny because the shorter blonde one laughed before turning in the direction Wendy and Naomi were hiding. Wendy's eyes trailed over his features. He had somewhat of a baby face but that seemed to make him even more charming, like his delicate face could get him out of any trouble. Or possibly into it. He had a perfectly smooth complexion with large blue eyes and a grin that promised danger and excitement. Wendy only managed to break her stare when the blonde was turned away by his friend slapping his back and they trailed out of the store with the first blonde slowly following, appearing to have some sort of a stare down with the older man. The man inclined his head ever so slightly and the boy gave a miniscule nod before slipping out the door as if the last two minutes never happened.

"We should follow them," Naomi suggested, a certain thrill to her tone. Wendy turned to face her.

"What—no that's not—"

"Come on," Naomi tugged her out of the aisle and back into plain sight of the store, hurriedly snatching the tape Wendy had in her hands and slapping it on a random shelf. "Forget that, let's go!"

The man seemed surprised to see them rushing out of the store but he quickly regained his wits and called after them, "Have a good evening, ladies!"

Wendy barely managed to wave to him in response before they were outside and jogging down the strip into the heart of the fair. Wendy sort of felt like her arm was being ripped out of its socket but she let Naomi drag her anyway knowing it was fruitless to try and argue.

"What if they see us?" Wendy called ahead nervously.

"They won't," Naomi replied over her shoulder. "There they are, there they are."

The two of them ducked behind a kiosk and Wendy flushed at their position.

"We look ridiculous," she hissed. "People are going to notice."

"Are those their bikes?" Naomi asked, clearly impressed as she gazed ahead near the railings of the dock.

Wendy reluctantly followed her gaze and narrowed her eyes. Sure enough, the boys were congregating near a set of bikes and as Wendy counted them, she realized there was one for each of them. Aside from the inside of their back wheels displaying a different color, they all looked the same.

The same girl from before with her short black hair was standing next to the brunette while he exchanged words with the blonde who seemed to be the head of their group. She leaned back against the curly-haired blonde while she waited for the brunette's attention to return to her and she swatted the blonde when he said something cheeky in her ear and squeezed her hips. Wendy flushed again.

"We shouldn't be staring at them," she whispered to Naomi. "This is an invasion of privacy and I'm pretty sure stalking is against the law."

"I get what you mean by them though," Naomi ignored her comment, still watching them with an awestruck look. "There's something about them, it's like you don't want to look away," there was a pause. "They're probably from England," she surmised as if that made any sort of difference.

"What are we looking at?"

The two of them shrieked at the third voice that joined their conversation in an exaggerated whisper, jumping back at the head that appeared suddenly in between them. Quincy glanced at them innocently but not without his signature evil smirk as he scoped out the area trying to figure out what was so interesting to them.

"Nothing," Wendy said quickly, stepping around the kiosk trying to appear nonchalant as she ran a hand through her hair.

"Shut up," Naomi snapped at Quincy for good measure. He rolled his eyes, unaffected by her temper.

"I'm on my break. You guys hungry? 'Cause I'm starved."

"No," they answered simultaneously, following after him as he searched for a vendor even though they didn't really have to. Wendy exchanged a look with Naomi and the two laughed quietly as their senses returned. Naomi stepped ahead of Wendy, probably to annoy Quincy, and Wendy chanced one last glance at the boys who were just starting to mount their motorcycles.

There was an instant after the curly-haired blonde swung his leg over the bike that their eyes met. It was so brief the blonde probably didn't even really notice her face but the momentary eye contact struck a chord deep in Wendy and she felt something inside her shift. The gaze broke as quickly as it was met and the blonde grinned out of the corner of his mouth, his tongue poking through his lips as he raised his eyebrows at the taller blonde next to him before they revved their engines and took off down the boardwalk, whooping and hollering as they went.

Wendy didn't stop watching them until their taillights disappeared into Santa Carla traffic and when she finally did her chest felt heavy and her head was swimming.

* * *

 **Hello! Yes, it is I, back with yet another story I'm mildly obsessed with. I watched The Lost Boys for the first time in years not too long ago and became infatuated once again with this brilliant film. Because I am what I am (sad, lonely, a fan fiction writer) story ideas immediately started flowing within the first five minutes of watching it. Marko always was my favorite vampire, probably because he always looked so cheeky and angel-faced/baby-faced and it kind of drove me crazy. So of course my brain decided I had to write a story about him RIGHT THERE AND THEN or else I'd never sleep again and so this story came to be.**

 **Let me just start off by saying I wrote the majority of this chapter while listening to the Labyrinth soundtrack. And I know, completely different film, but the music seemed to fit so well for this story and I realized that "Underground" by David Bowie has really set the tone for this fic. I've pretty much dibbed it the story's unofficial theme song because it works so perfectly, both in lyrics and sound. If you've never heard it, give it a listen (and make sure you watch Labyrinth if you haven't - brilliant film in so many ways).**

 **In other news, this is (obviously) my first fic for The Lost Boys. Even though I first saw this movie probably ten years ago I still consider myself new to the fandom, at least on this site, so hopefully you guys don't want to throw eggs at me or anything after reading this. I had fun writing it all the same and I'm excited to write more so hopefully some (a few?) of you are eager to read more. Maybe? This story takes place roughly a year before the events of the movie. I'm not sure if I'll write Wendy into the movie or not, it just depends on what seems best for the story (and what you guys want to see). As always it's my number one priority to make all canon characters true to their personalities so hopefully in later chapters I will succeed with that. And just as an FYI, no I didn't intentionally name her Wendy because of "The Lost Boys" but once I realized the connection I laughed cleverly to myself because it's kind of perfect.**

 **Let me know what you think and if you're at all interested in reading more! Hopefully there aren't any spelling or grammar mistakes, I'm awfully lazy right now since it's Sunday night and all. Until next time! xoxo**


	2. Fight or Flight

**Disclaimer: I don't own _The Lost Boys_ or anything recognizable associated with it. I only own my characters and the plot of this story.**

* * *

 **2\. The Fight or Flight**

Ever since that night on the boardwalk it was like the mysterious boys were everywhere all at once.

When Wendy went to the convenience door at the end of her block to grab some microwavable dinners after work, there the tall blonde was buying a pack of cigarettes at the counter. When she was on her break during the late shift she spotted the tall brunette across the road pulling the black-haired girl onto his bike, grinning at her over his shoulder as she curled against his back. And just the other night when Wendy and Naomi went to the theater to see a movie, she caught a glimpse of the curly-haired boy and the tall blonde leaning against the wall next to one of the claw machines. The curly-haired boy's eyes seemed to follow a lovely dark-skinned girl with an intensity that even made Wendy blush as the girl ordered some snacks at the concession stand with her friends.

Wendy didn't know what to make of any of it.

It's like they didn't exist until suddenly they did. She tried to rationalize that they'd probably been there all along she just never noticed them. And maybe since she was now aware of them, it's like her mind purposefully sought them out.

"Hey," Wendy had leaned in to whisper to Charlie after buying her popcorn. He was a friend of Quincy who worked at the theater stands. "Who are those guys?"

Charlie had followed the direction she nodded in, his eyes zeroing in on the two blondes as they played around with the claw machine.

"Oh," he'd said, voice dropping an octave as if they weren't who he'd been expecting. "Them."

She frowned at his vague response. "Who's 'them'?"

"No one really knows," he had told her quickly, noticing there was a line forming behind her. "They showed up about a month or two ago. I've seen 'em in here a few times with the tall one and some girl but they mostly hang around the boardwalk. Aside from spooking the people there they mostly just pick up girls—or guys, I guess, don't really have a preference—and mess around," he gave a strained chuckle. "Talk about living the dream, huh?"

Wendy had tried to peer subtly over her shoulder at the blondes. The dark-skinned girl was just passing them as she headed down the corridor to her theater, smiling secretly at the curly-haired boy who kept her in his line of sight until she disappeared around the corner. Once she was gone, the tall one slapped him on the back and they exchanged identical grins.

She couldn't really describe the interest she had in them. Sure, they were a bit strange at first glance, but so were a lot of people Wendy's age. The majority of the boys at her school were either trying to be Guns 'N Roses or Aerosmith, and they were poor representations at best because they were only between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. At least these boys pulled the look off well even if she couldn't really guess how old they were.

The one she rarely saw out and about was the blonde-haired leader. She could count on one hand the amount of times she'd seen him and it was always at the boardwalk either getting into trouble with the security guards – she used the term 'trouble' loosely because not even the security guards seemed capable of intimidating him into leaving and they never complained when he returned unless he did something to disturb the peace – or gazing out into the crowd. She couldn't help but wonder if he was looking for someone. The police department had recently started printing flyers of the missing people, which totaled to three now, and taping them to the information center at the head of the boardwalk.

He didn't have the face of someone who'd lost someone though. Rather than looking concerned or worried, he just looked curious. Wendy didn't try to think much into it; she never had been very good at reading people. To her these four boys were like a completely different language. She had to try to tell herself she didn't care. It wasn't worth her time dwelling over four strangers she'd probably never speak to.

Wendy was scrubbing a dirty skillet a few nights later, her brown hair matted with sweat brimming her forehead from the heat of the water, when the next domino fell.

It was another busy night at Paula's as the town began to welcome summer with open arms. Thankfully for her she had a helper to carry some of the burden tonight. Todd White was a quiet boy, fairly soft spoken with sand-colored hair and brilliant blue eyes. Despite his shyness he was nice and articulate when he wanted to be. Wendy had a feeling he was more in his element when he was surrounded by people he knew which she couldn't judge him for. Usually if she didn't know the person very well she had a hard time making conversation too, hence the reason most of their shared shifts were spent in silence.

Since they'd worked together for a little over five months the silences were no longer awkward or uncomfortable and Wendy had come to almost appreciate them. It felt like every other moment of her life was spent having her ear talked off by someone and having an hour or two of quietness came to her as a blessing.

"Can you _believe_ that woman?"

Speak of the devil. At least she'd gone a straight forty minutes before bursting into the kitchen to complain. Poor Todd, though. When Naomi slammed open the door he jumped so hard he dropped the plate he was washing into the sink, suds flying up into his face.

"Which one?" Wendy asked her after flashing the boy an apologetic look. It took a while to get used to Naomi's abrasiveness.

"The one who told me I spit in her milkshake last week! — Don't look at me like that, you know I didn't. She's been giving me the evil eye all night and when she ordered she asked for pickles on the side, right? I brought it out to her exactly as she wanted it, two pickles on the side instead of on the burger, and she had the nerve to tell me the burger was too done. She claims to have told me she wanted it medium rare, which she did not, so I had to ask the chef to remake it and he accidentally put the pickles on this one instead of on the side and she called me _incompetent_. And then," Naomi laughed sarcastically, "when she signed the check she wrote, _literally wrote_ , a zero on the tip line. That old hag!"

Naomi's cheeks were on fire as she seethed next to Wendy who was tempted to pat her shoulder in consolation but figured she wouldn't appreciate the soap marks on her black shirt.

"It didn't help that her bratty grandsons kept spilling their glasses of milk and demanding more pictures to color. She didn't even try to control them. I swear she gave me an evil smile the third time I had to mop up their mess like she makes them do it on purpose. She's out to get me," Naomi scowled and stared ahead. "I wish I had spit in her milkshake."

"You can't let people like that get to you," Wendy said, cleverly biting back her usual retort of 'that's why I work in the kitchen' in fear of invoking Naomi's wrath next. "They always think the world revolves around them. Showing that they make you mad just proves they've won."

"Next time she comes in for her morning coffee I'm not making it decaf. Maybe her black shriveled up little heart will explode, provided she actually has one."

"I've always wanted a best friend that's gone to prison for pre-meditated murder," Wendy mused with a theatrical sigh. "Let me know what the food's like."

"You don't have to pay for anything while you're there so it can't be all that bad," Naomi pondered the thought. Wendy grinned. Todd looked very worried.

"Don't worry," Naomi reassured him in a way that didn't sound reassuring at all. "I don't actually want her to die. Not _really_."

Todd looked like maybe he was about to respond but Mike, the night shift leader, opened the kitchen door and set his hard gaze on Naomi.

"It's funny," Mike remarked in his rugged voice after years of smoking and chewing tobacco. "I could've sworn you worked up front. Do you want to be moved to the kitchen?"

Naomi straightened herself quickly, peering at Wendy out of the corner of her eye.

"Not really," she said, shooting Wendy a 'no offense' look. Mike lifted an eyebrow, a deadpan expression covering his rough face that barred an uneven five o'clock shadow.

"Then get up front where you belong and do your job. Table four needs to be cleaned."

He pulled back and left their sight. Naomi had the good sense of looking mildly chagrinned.

"What shift do you work tomorrow?" she asked once she recovered, pausing in the doorway.

"I actually have the day off," Wendy said, unable to hide her own surprise at the fact. "Weird, right? I can't remember the last day I didn't work, not that I'm complaining."

Naomi hummed. "I work the morning shift so maybe we can do something after I get off. The beach kind of sounds nice and I know Gary'll be free after swim practice."

"Yeah maybe," Wendy smiled.

Mike shouted something through the wall and Naomi looked like she wanted to roll her eyes but refrained, knowing Mike would somehow find out about it because he always did. Wendy was convinced he had eyes and ears everywhere. Naomi's lips twitched and she wiggled her fingers at Todd before returning to the front of the restaurant, presumably to do her job as Mike requested. Todd visibly relaxed the second she was gone and Wendy almost wanted to laugh but she felt too bad to let it slip.

"I swear she's a nice person," Wendy told him earnestly. "And she's not prone to violence on most days."

"Do you have any evidence to support that?" Todd asked. His voice was quiet but his tone was dry and he spoke without hesitation. It made Wendy pause before she gave him a smile of delight.

"I love it when you say things," she grinned. Todd cracked a small grin right back.

An hour later things seemed to slow down. Wendy was wiping her arms down with a towel as she packed up her things. She hovered near Todd as she did so, trying to gauge if he had it handled or not without actually asking. Since the expression on Todd's face gave nothing away, she sighed inwardly before stepping next to him as she swung her bag over her shoulder.

"Are you going to be okay?"

Todd spared her a cursory glance before returning to his work. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Go ahead."

"Are you sure?" she checked. "You'll be left alone with Mike tonight…"

"Don't worry," Todd chuckled a little. "Unlike your friend I actually get along with him. I'll see you 'round."

"Have a good night, Todd," Wendy gave him a small wave before running by the office to stamp her timesheet.

She pushed through the door into the front, giving Naomi and the other nightshift waitress a wave. Naomi mimed the phone symbol next to her ear and Wendy nodded before leaving through the double glass doors.

The air was a bit warm for nine in the evening, a welcome change to the brisk cold nights Santa Carla usually faced as it was right on the water. After checking her pockets to see how much cash she had, she realized she was a bit short for the bus so she heaved a sigh and began the half an hour trek to her apartment.

Her and Quincy lived fairly close to the water even if it wasn't along the boardwalk. It was only about a ten minute drive from their apartment building if traffic was an issue and the air still smelled salty outside her bedroom window, a smell she occasionally missed as over the years her nose had become mostly desensitized to it.

The roads were fairly active and every now and then Wendy had to weave through groups of people heading down to the boardwalk. It took her turning down a separate road for the echoing rhythm of carnival music to fade, leaving less people on the sidewalk she had to avoid. She had to walk at a slight incline which made her thighs burn and she gazed up at the black sky to give her mind something else to think about. Her surroundings still consisted mostly of bright shops, gas stations and old office buildings which left little visible starlight, much to her disappointment.

She couldn't tell if she was so far in her element that she just hadn't noticed it before until now, but as she passed the 7-Eleven she realized the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.

Her shoulders stiffened out of reflex and she peered over at the white and blue neon display sign flickering in the gas station window, humming lowly even from where she walked. Her brows knitted and she tried to shake the feeling off when she didn't see anyone else around besides an elderly man pumping gas several feet away. She figured the reports of the recent missing persons were simply getting to her and she was only being paranoid.

But the more she tried to ignore the feeling, the more noticeable it became. She tried to physically shrug the feeling off, as if something tangible was tickling her neck, but the sensation never wavered. If anything, it became stronger until she felt a pull in her gut. Not a pained feeling, but more so a discomfort. Her eyes flickered across the street, worried for a moment that someone was watching her from inside one of the buildings but all the lights were turned off. If someone was in there, she couldn't see them.

Holding her bag's strap a little tighter, she continued walking at a faster pace. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could stop worrying about it. She knew Santa Carla wasn't the safest city in California. She'd heard more than one person refer to it as the murder capital of the world, though she assumed most of them were just exaggerating. Aside from the three people that had recently gone missing, the news had been clean.

When her Mom left two years ago there were several cases Wendy heard about only because she was constantly at the sheriff's station with Quincy and news traveled fast, but none of them had ever made the papers. She assumed all of them had been found. Well, besides her mother, but she and Quincy had a feeling that was by design. Mirabelle Valentine left on purpose. She didn't want to be found.

Wendy made to turn down the first neighborhood street that came into view when she heard it. The tugging in her gut had been consistent for the last two minutes and, as if knowing something was going to happen, her heart rate spiked a split second before a loud scream pierced the air.

Fight or flight instincts immediately kicked in. Under most circumstances Wendy's internal survivor meter always pointed directly to flight. It was basic human instinct and Wendy wasn't one to defy thousands of years of evidence that clearly showed running to the problem rather than away from it was a bad idea. So what she did next was something that completely blindsided her.

Instead of taking off down the road or maybe taking refuge in the 7-Eleven, her head whipped around frantically to try and find the origin of the scream. Ignoring the startled shout of the old man as he dropped the gas pump— _"What in tarnation!"_ —she jogged in the direction she thought the scream came from, being proven right when a second one broke out only seconds later. This one was less loud and it wavered, like the throat it tore from was trembling.

She ran across the street while searching for a pay phone in case she needed to call 911, ignoring the painful clench of her stomach and the way the flesh of her scalp seemed to crawl.

She spotted an alcove between two brick buildings, the entrance cloaked in darkness from the angle of the streetlights and she ran towards it without thinking. Her legs carried her into the narrow alleyway covered in trash and discarded papers and she stumbled into the adjacent stone wall, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she gaped at the sight before her.

As if it were some cruel twist of fate, two startlingly familiar faces peered up at her, their eyes glowing and faces pale from the reflection of the moonlight beaming in through the slit in the roofs. They had a girl trapped between them, their bodies pinning her in place as if to thwart any chances of escape. It was too dark to make out any real features of her face but her mouth was hanging open, a pained wince twisting her lips, with her eyes wide in fright as a flash of something sharp and white glinted from one of the boys' mouths.

Wendy felt a scream build up in her own throat and her heart thrummed like a jackhammer behind her ribcage as she clutched the wall in terror. One had their head stuffed in the crook of the girl's neck and something red was smeared down her cheekbone. What was happening? Was she one of the missing girls? Was Wendy going to be next because she was a witness? Oh God, what did she _do?_ She was going to die!

But the girl wasn't in pain.

Wendy's frantic gaze managed to study the scene further and she realized the girl's lips were open in a shocked smile, her pupils blown from exhilaration with red lipstick smudged across her cheek, and the tall blonde behind her was gripping her around the waist with a playful grin as he pulled his blunt teeth from her neck. The curly-haired blonde had his hands tangled in the girl's hair, seeming to have been tugging playfully on her rosy-tinted locks to move her head aside.

Wendy felt her insides shrivel up as embarrassment washed over her in a tidal wave and her cheeks burned red with chagrin.

Her lips flopped open like a fish, mouthing shapes that might've been words as she stared openly at the three who halted their activities to look at her. The girl seemed surprised to see her but the two boys did not, their mischievous grins unwavering as their glittering eyes landed on her frozen form.

Wendy realized a bit too late that the reason the girl's second scream sounded unsteady was because she'd been laughing.

The tall one turned his head to look at the curly-haired boy.

"Looks like we got an audience," he announced with a sly grin. He turned his attention back to Wendy whose feet were rooted to the ground. "You pervin' on us, girly?"

Wendy's brain finally made the connection to her mouth.

"N-no, I thought… I didn't…"

"Maybe she wants to join in," the tall blonde talked over her rambling, tightening his hold on the girl who squeaked with delight against his chest. The curly-haired boy giggled in response, his gaze drinking in Wendy's still form as his teeth pulled on his bottom lip.

"I heard a scream…" Wendy said in a strangled voice. It felt like her heart as lodged in her throat. "I didn't know you were… I thought someone was being…"

"Eaten?" the tall one finished for her. He looked over to his counterpart, the corner of his mouth twitching. "What do you think, Marko? Think she looks good enough to eat?" he dug his fingers into the girl's sides and she giggled.

"Think so," 'Marko' agreed, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. Wendy's heart shuddered. She needed to leave. Immediately.

"I'm just gonna—" she jabbed a shaky thumb over her shoulder, peeling her shoes off the cement to start backing up slowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I'm leaving now."

"You don't wanna stay?" the tall one mocked, his lips turned down in an exaggerated pout as he laid his chin on the girl's shoulder who leaned into the embrace like a magnet.

"I kind of like it when they watch," Marko added, his voice husky and raw despite his angelic baby face. Though his comment was directed at Wendy, or so it seemed, he was looking at the girl with a hunger in his eye that made her hips twitch in his direction.

Wendy flushed and before they had the chance to torment her further she spun on her heels and darted out of the alley, the boys' barks of laughter following her all the way out.

There was another shriek from the girl that was soon muffled – by what, Wendy didn't want to know – and she marched back across the street with her face as red as a tomato. Tears stung her eyes from the adrenaline and chagrin and she bit the inside of her cheek out of frustration as she stomped down the neighborhood street towards her apartment.

She felt mortified and vaguely repulsed all at once. Obviously her mind had misconstrued what was going on in her panic, but she could've _sworn_ it looked like…

She didn't know.

Wendy shook her head as if to will the thoughts away. She could already feel a migraine forming behind her eyes and the unpleasant tugging in her stomach was only just beginning to fade away. She needed rest. And possibly a therapist.

* * *

It was a blistering hot day in Santa Carla, California. The heat from the sun's rays felt like the warmth radiating out of a brick oven and Wendy's shoulders felt raw as she helped Quincy carry the cooler full of drinks down to the beach. It was a rare occasion that the two of them had the same day off, even rarer now that Quincy was working two jobs. When all the planets aligned and they finally did have some time off, they silently agreed to spend it together. Quincy wouldn't be caught dead admitting to hanging out with his uncool little sister in his free time but she knew he took as much away from the experience as she did.

There was something different about the way they interacted when they weren't cooped up in their apartment stifled by the four walls around them. They felt like they could actually stretch out their limbs and relax which put them both in higher spirits. Quincy was less of an annoyance, not that she expected him to be on his best behavior because he was certainly incapable of that, but she found they got along much better when they didn't have to worry about the stresses of home life.

"Where do you want me to sit this?" Wendy asked, squinting beneath her flared sun hat.

"Anywhere," Quincy dismissed her with a wave, having dropped his side of the cooler in favor of prowling forward. He was already peeling off his shirt.

His response was less than helpful because the beach was crowded, suitably so considering the heatwave crashing last minute through southern California. They could've avoided this if Quincy had agreed to come earlier but apparently getting out of bed before noon was sacrilegious in his book. Naomi once referred to it as The Idiot's Guide to Quincy which made Wendy stifle a laugh. If Quincy knew about it he would've filled her pillowcase with dirty socks.

Wendy dragged the cooler down into the sand, finding a small unoccupied spot between two beach towels. She pulled the wadded up towel out of her bag and placed it next to the cooler, smoothing it out before sitting down. She had a one-piece bathing suit on but it would hardly see the light of day, covered by a large cotton white cardigan. It was light enough to keep her cool but thick enough to ward off the sun. Her skin was so sensitive it nearly burned whenever she walked outside.

She immediately began smothering her legs and face in sunscreen while Quincy scoped out the sea of bodies congregating near the shoreline, no doubt in search of his next conquest. Wendy tried to not feel queasy.

"Naomi and Gary should be here soon," she called out to him.

"Joy," he drawled, still facing away from her.

"I'm just going to read until they get here," she continued, trying to coax a half-decent response out of him.

"Boring."

Wendy shook her head before tugging a book out of her bag. She opened it to the dog-eared page before peering up at her brother warily.

"Don't you want sunscreen?" she asked. He burnt just as easily as she did. His shoulders were already starting to look a delicate shade of pink.

"No thanks, Mom."

"Don't come to me begging for a skin donor when yours burns off," Wendy retorted before lying on her stomach.

Quincy responded by pulling a water bottle out of the melting ice and shaking the cold water all over her bare legs. Wendy yelped and rolled out of the way, kicking hot sand at him in irritation. Quincy just laughed before stalking away. Wendy scowled after him before getting comfortable again.

She still felt a bit disconcerted from the night before but she tried to pass it off as paranoia and leave it be. The embarrassment still nagged at the corner of her mind like an annoying tick but she tried reasoning with herself that it wasn't likely she'd come face to face with either of them again for the humiliation to count. It wasn't easy for Wendy to let things go but for the sake of her sanity she tried.

Aside from the children that occasionally ran by screaming and giggling and kicking up sand into her book, it was relatively calm.

Wendy got through a good chapter and a half before she heard her name being called from somewhere behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder, gripping onto her sun hat to keep it from flying away when a bout of wind rolled through. Naomi waved, clutching onto a muscular guy's arm walking next to her who was dressed in a red tank top and swimming shorts. Wendy closed her sand-filled book and tucked it away in her bag as the couple approached.

"You roasting out here like I am?" was Naomi's way of greeting her as she pulled her towel free from the bag hoisted over Gary's shoulder. Gary nodded to Wendy in a silent hello and Wendy smiled back. Conversation didn't pass often between the two of them, aside from when Gary helped her with her homework. "It feels like the surface of the sun out here."

"I've already emptied half the sunscreen bottle onto my legs," Wendy told her, moving aside so Naomi could spread out her towel directly next to hers. "I'm trying really hard not to bake like a cookie. Apparently there's an excessive heat warning until tomorrow night."

"Have you been in the water yet?" Naomi asked.

"I hate the ocean," Wendy reminded her. Naomi rolled her eyes.

"You don't have to go out in the surf, you can just walk a few feet in to cool yourself off."

"But my feet touch weird things when I do that," Wendy whined a little, cringing at the thought. The ocean never ceased to terrify her. A large, deep body of water with only a small percentage of its surface discovered? She'd rather jump out of a plane with a parachute, as long as she didn't have to land in the water.

"Oh hush," Naomi scolded lightly as she pulled on a pair of sunglasses. Her rich golden skin didn't need any lotion and she stood from the towel after giving Gary a kiss on the cheek. "Come with me in the water."

Wendy stared at the hand Naomi held out to her for a second before relenting with a sigh. She accepted Naomi's hand and the girl grinned in triumph, pulling her to her feet.

"You should take the hat off so you don't lose it," Naomi gestured to the sun hat. Against Wendy's better judgment she discarded it and was more or less dragged down to the shoreline.

The water was a brazing cold and Wendy expected as much but it still pulled a gasp from her lips the second it met her toes. With encouragement from Naomi she ventured a few feet out until the water was up to her mid-thigh and that's where she drew the line. Naomi surged forward to duck under the water and when she came up her hair was wet and pressed flat against her head.

"C'mon, Wen," Naomi splashed some water at her. Wendy yelped and jumped back out of reflex before declaring war.

The two of them laughed and skipped in the shallow water for a while, splashing one another and shrieking whenever the other got too close as they ran. Wendy made sure to keep her distance from the deeper sections of the shore. The lower the water line, the faster she could run anyway. Wendy noticed a few minutes in that Gary was watching them from their towels, occasionally grinning over at them (particularly Naomi) before Quincy flopped down next to him and stole his attention.

About fifteen minutes later the two were soaked as they headed back up the beach to their towels. Wendy's cardigan was dripping with salt water and she wringed it out as she shuffled through the sand, lips turned downward at the way the sand stuck between her toes.

"Have fun prancing around out there?" Quincy asked. She tried nudging him to the side so she could sit down but he didn't budge. She stuck her sandy toes near his face and he recoiled, sliding away with a huff. Wendy grinned crookedly and sat between him and Gary.

"We did actually. Have fun staring at all the women out of your league?"

He shoved a glob of sunscreen at her in retaliation.

The four of them lingered around the beach another hour or so. Naomi eventually laid back on her towel to catch some sun, not that she really needed it. Occasionally she'd make a few remarks to Wendy about meaningless things but for the most part she kept quiet, probably dozing off. Wendy returned to her stomach where she went between reading her book and watching the ocean. It was easy to take the sea for granted when she lived so close to it her whole life, but moments like this where she looked out and marveled its grace reminded her that she lived in a beautiful city.

She thought about telling Naomi what happened last night but thought better of it, figuring for now it was best kept to herself.

Quincy and Gary eventually left to get some sugary drinks. They brought back popsicles for Naomi and Wendy and lackluster conversation passed between the four of them until they became lethargic and hot. They packed up their staff and headed back to their respective cars, agreeing to meet for dinner somewhere after they all had gotten the chance to shower and wash the ocean and sand off their bodies.

By the time the sun was close to setting they were meeting up at a restaurant at the far end of the boardwalk. It was a bit nicer than the one Wendy and Naomi worked at, a bit higher in price for not much different food. It was still a burger joint, as per Santa Carla boardwalk style, but at least the burgers looked well put together. They ate and enjoyed each other's company, all starving from lack of food. Once they finished eating they were all full and sluggish but not quite ready to turn in for the evening so they settled for walking along the boardwalk.

"There's something not right about visiting the place you work on a day you have off," Quincy noted with distain. Naomi laughed.

"That's why we didn't go to Paula's," she said, referring to the fast food diner her and Wendy worked at. She leaned into Gary as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "If I have to smell the grease from that place outside of work it makes me want to hurl."

"No kidding," Wendy agreed, her full stomach churning at the thought. She tried not to eat there if she didn't have to but considering the food was only a wall away when she was on the clock it made the temptation hard to resist. She ate lunch there on most occasions and sometimes dinner if she was working the late shift. It's a wonder she hadn't gained twenty pounds since starting there a year ago.

They wound through various game booths and kiosks waiting for something to pique their interest. Quincy eventually got distracted and split from the group, leaving Wendy with the happy couple. The nice thing about Naomi and Gary was they never left her feeling like a third wheel, even if she occasionally sneered at the lovey-dovey looks they exchanged. Her slight jealousy and revulsion was always quickly diluted by the sheer greatness of them as a couple. They always seemed to be in sync and physically they looked really appealing together, with Naomi's exotic face and Gary's impressive build.

Well, the jealousy was back but at least she wasn't revolted by their cuddling.

Gary steered Naomi towards a ball toss booth, the objective of the game being to knock down as many glass bottles as possible. Naomi and Wendy stood on either side of him as he made a few attempts after paying the attendant a dollar, tongue sticking out between his lips as he frowned in concentration. Each ball he tossed either skimmed the bottles or bounced off at an awkward angle, leaving most of them standing once he finished his turn.

"Sorry buddy," the man at the booth gave him a greasy smile. "Better luck next time."

"That's bull," Gary complained as they left empty-handed. Apparently he'd been eager to win Naomi a stuffed panda.

"You know all those games are rigged right?" Wendy asked with a hint of amusement. Gary's brows pulled down.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah," she grinned. "The bottles don't fall unless they want them to which is almost never. You know how all the booths like that require money, not tickets? Competitive people like to make bets on how many bottles they can knock over and every time they lose they keep paying the attendant for another round. It's all a scam."

He regarded her skeptically. "And you know this how?"

"My brother told me all about it. He's stiffed people tons of times on games like that."

"Isn't that considered stealing?" Gary asked, not that he sounded particular angry about it. He was mostly still miffed over the fact that he got ripped off rather than some other poor sap.

Wendy shrugged a shoulder. She'd already had this argument with Quincy back when he first told her about all the scams he'd pulled on people thanks to his lovely carnie influences. She was annoyed with him at first for cheating the game but at this point she was all but desensitized to it. It's not like he was actually threatening them to hand over their wallets, was he? Besides, the extra cash helped pay for their food.

"It's not like he's demanding money," she said. "If they're gullible enough to fall for it then what's the harm?"

Gary didn't seem wholly convinced. He made a 'hmph' sound but didn't expand on it further.

They explored the boardwalk a little more before making a familiar turn down the strip where all the shops sat. Wendy recognized Quincy talking to a petite blonde next to the video shop her and Naomi momentarily visited the other night. He was resting his arm against the wall next to the girl's head, leaning in with a grin as she shyly returned his gaze. As the three of them passed by, Wendy returned the favor from a few nights ago and slapped the back of his head right as he was about to make a move. Quincy shrank back from the sting of her palm and glared immediately over his shoulder at her, promising violence the next time they met. She smiled to herself as she followed Gary and Naomi into the video shop to find a movie to rent.

"I say we go for horror," Naomi immediately suggested once the man at the counter gave them his generic greeting. Gary tossed his head back and groaned.

"We _always_ go for horror. Isn't there anything else you like to watch?"

"Hey," Naomi snarked. "Remember last night when I watched that—"

"And it's time to stop talking," Gary covered her mouth with his hand, tossing Wendy an awkward smile. Wendy's brows furrowed until realization struck her and she made a disgusted face.

Naomi barked a laugh and Gary rolled his eyes before jerking his hand back, sighing exasperatedly at the evil glint in Naomi's eye. He wiped his saliva-covered palm on his pants before tickling her sides and Wendy took that as her cue to leave before she had to bear witness to any PG-13 lip action.

Wendy browsed through a few shelves, not finding anything of interest but lifting a few tapes to read their summaries anyway. She found the store wasn't often crowded, not that the shops on the boardwalk were the biggest attractions. Nevertheless she enjoyed the peace and quiet. Her eyes trailed over the text of some romantic comedy before she felt a sharp tug on her hair. Her heart fell to her stomach until she heard the familiar voice hiss into her ear,

"You little twerp."

Quincy's cheeks were red as Wendy smiled innocently up at him.

"Yes, dear brother?" she asked, blinking slowly.

"Don't try to be all coy," he narrowed his eyes at her. "You totally ruined the mood and she ran off."

"I don't see how that's my fault," Wendy said lightly. "Clearly she wasn't interested."

"She _was_."

"And now she's not."

Wendy rejoiced silently as Quincy steamed next to her, moving a few tapes around on the shelf for the sake of doing something with his hands. After a few seconds Wendy felt the tendrils of guilt beginning to sweep through her gut and as she opened her mouth to apologize, worried that she'd been a little harsh on her brother, her voice died in her throat as a much more authoritative voice drowned it out.

"Mister Valentine."

Quincy's shoulders stiffened and he slowly put the tape back on its shelf before facing the stout balding man that appeared to have casually approached him from the back of the store. Wendy's forehead wrinkled until she noticed the officer's badge flash yellow above his breast pocket. The hairs on the back of Wendy's neck stood on end, praying that Quincy hadn't done anything stupid to warrant a visit from local law enforcement.

"Uh," Quincy cleared his throat before offering an unsteady smile. "Hey Officer Lebowski. How's it hangin'?"

"Just fine," the officer answered, choosing to ignore Quincy's use of the slang term he clearly had no appreciation for. "And how are you? Staying out of trouble I hope?"

"Yes sir," Quincy said agreeably and Wendy had to hold back her snort of derision at the sound of Quincy referring to anyone as 'sir'. The officer's beady eyes eventually trailed over to her and she appeared startled at the attention, her hopes of going unnoticed crushed beneath his scrutinizing stare. How was it that all men—and women—of authority managed to inflict worry in Wendy even though she knew she'd done nothing wrong?

"This must be your sister," the officer said, words less flat and harboring a slightly friendlier tone. "I don't believe we've met. I caught your brother taping bang snaps to the underside of men's toilet seats in the 7-Eleven a couple months back."

"Sounds like him," Wendy chuckled uneasily, flashing a heated glare at the side of Quincy's face when the officer's gaze momentarily left her face.

"Are you two out alone this evening?" Officer Lebowski then asked. "I trust you're aware of the two recent missing person's cases."

"Yep." "Of course." They chimed together. Officer Lebowski's eyebrows rose, thinly veiled amusement barely noticeable on his round face.

"What about your uncle?" the officer asked, quickly jumping from topic to topic. "What's he up to tonight?"

"Sleeping," Wendy answered at the same time Quincy blurted,

"Drinking."

They exchanged alarmed looks, Wendy's still carrying a bit of heat, and Officer Lebowski's face twisted in suspicious confusion.

"Drinking, sleeping, who even knows with this guy," Quincy covered with a forced chuckle. "The guy's such a lightweight; it only takes two beers before he's out cold. It's our day off so he's taking advantage of the empty apartment while he can."

Wendy's eyebrows rose but before she could really feel impressed with the save the officer's walkie-talkie sizzled with static. The man jumped and lifted the speaker to his ear, a muffled voice droning through the receiver. The officer nodded as if expecting the person on the other end to see it.

"Rodger," he responded. He returned his attention to the two teens in front of him, his stare lingering longer on Quincy as if the gaze could somehow derail Quincy's defiant streak. He then advised to the both of them, "Don't stay out too late."

With that, he nodded towards his partner standing a few feet away browsing the science fiction section. The two left, greeting the owner of the shop with polite nods as they passed by him and a few kids who just entered the store quickly hopped out of their way as if afraid the men would arrest them for blocking their path.

"Wonder what they're doing prowling around here," Quincy voiced Wendy's unspoken thoughts the second the two men were out of range. She frowned as she followed the officers with her eyes out the door. The man at the front desk was watching them curiously as well.

"I don't know," Wendy said absently. The girl from the night before flashed through her mind.

"We got a movie," Naomi announced, appearing out of nowhere on Wendy's right and making her jump. Naomi gave her a curious look. "You okay? We saw those police officers."

"Yeah, fine," said Wendy, still partially distracted.

"I saw them talking to you," Naomi directed her next comment at Quincy and there was a sneer on her face. "What did you do?"

"Nothing," Quincy stressed, eyeballing Naomi with a look of muted distain. Wendy had a feeling his response would've been much more colorful had Gary not been there to deck him for it. Something clicked in Wendy's mind as her attention was pulled back to the present and she turned to face her brother with an unimpressed stare.

"Bang snaps? Really?" she squinted at him. "How _old_ are you?"

Quincy rolled his eyes. "It was Nathan's idea."

"At a 7-Eleven?" Wendy continued, her nose curling. "Don't tell me you actually touched those toilet seats with your bare hands."

"What?" Gary interjected, clearly lost. Quincy ignored him in favor of rolling his eyes at Wendy.

"We used toilet paper to lift them. We're not stupid."

"That remains to be seen," Naomi insulted. Quincy's jaw clenched. Wendy tried steering tensions away from a verbal fight.

"I can't believe you're actually on a last name basis with law enforcement."

"Technically his name's Scott," Quincy helpfully supplied as they made their way to the counter so Gary could rent the tape he and Naomi had selected.

"Oh even better," Wendy drawled.

The clerk handed Gary his change and smiled at them as they left. They started heading back towards the parking lot, Naomi and Gary lost in their own conversation ahead while Quincy and Wendy stared in opposite directions behind them. Wendy's eyes roamed the fairground, sidestepping a man on stilts as he balanced a pin precariously on top of his head much to the amazement of those observing from down below.

She slipped through the watchful group and as she turned to face the docks her measured footsteps lost their steady rhythm and she nearly lost her footing on even ground. Those same four boys were lingering near their bikes again and her gaze immediately zeroed in on the two blondes she'd seen the night before. Her heart raced at the unwanted reminder and she made to look away quickly but of course the tall one caught her stare before she could break it and he nudged the curly-haired boy next to him with an amused look. What had his name been? Mark?

The boy looked up, the colorful patchwork on his jacket gleaming under the neon lights. He put his fist up to his mouth and laughed, eyes crinkling around the edges in a clear display of mockery and Wendy's stomach rolled. He raised his eyebrows in her direction, making it clear that he and his friend both recognized her. Wendy swallowed thickly and finally disconnected the gaze, feeling like her mind had been turned inside out. She was sure the muffled echo of laughter she heard from came from them and try as she might she couldn't ignore it.

As they made to pass the information board, Wendy's attention was snagged by the missing persons' posters. Unable to ignore the insistent pull in her stomach, she tugged on Quincy's jacket to stop him. She couldn't relax until she at least had some peace of mind.

"What?" he asked, hanging back while Naomi and Gary continued on. He noticed the direction she was heading and his forehead wrinkled. "You know someone who's missing?"

"I hope not," she muttered, mostly to herself.

She reached the board and gazed intently up at the pictures, gut coiling with anxiety. It had been too dark to really make out any distinguishing features on the girl's face but Wendy was certain her hair had been rose-red. Her eyes skimmed the three flyers, studying the faces of the three girls shown on display carefully.

None of them had red hair.

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows so far! Glad to see the story has some readers already. Just as a quick update: I renamed the story from _My Soul to Take_ to _Angel Face_ because upon browsing The Lost Boys fic section I noticed another story was named the same thing and I didn't want to make it seem like I was copying them. So don't worry, still the same story just a different title. Hope you liked this one! Let me know what you think :)**

 **xoxo**


	3. Wendy, darling

**Disclaimer: I don't own _The Lost Boys_ or anything recognizable associated with it. I only own my characters and the plot of this story.**

* * *

 **3\. Wendy, darling**

It was another Thursday night at Paula's.

Pallets of supplies were usually delivered to the back of the restaurant every Thursday night after the dinner rush. Mike was typically on call for those because he was the strongest, only on the clock to sign for them and unpack and rearrange them in the back room which only took about an hour or two. Since Thursdays weren't very busy especially after ten o'clock that's when Mike liked to organize the loads because the kitchen was less chaotic. There was a single chef manning the kitchen, one waitress out front, and Wendy who was refilling the salt and pepper shakers at the front counter.

Wendy wasn't a fan of the night shift but she enjoyed moments like these where only one or two customers were present. Between ten and twelve there was a lull of silence, like the calm before the storm. More often than not teenagers filtered in around one in the morning, either to fall asleep at the tables or order every item on the menu because they had the munchies. Every now and then a homeless person would slip inside and, depending on who was waiting tables, were either asked to leave or were given a free cup of warm coffee.

Every time a customer left, which was every forty minutes or so, Wendy would grab her tray and collect the dirty dishware. Since the crowds were gone until morning she generally had the time to take the dishes back, wash and dry them, and then restack for the following day. Some complained that the night shifts were too boring and slow but that's what Wendy loved about them. She wasn't good under pressure which was one of the reasons she didn't apply at Paula's as a waitress. Constantly having to run from table to table memorizing everyone's orders, balancing heavy trays of food, and dealing with angry customers all while maintaining a perfect smile? Wendy would lose her mind.

Placing the bag of salt on the counter next to her, Wendy closed the four salt shakers before gathering them in her hands and taking them to their respective tables next to the pepper shakers she filled a few minutes prior. There was a man sitting in one of the corner booths reading an old newspaper and Wendy stopped by to take his plate.

"Are you done with this?" she asked. The man nodded without looking up and she grabbed the plate, carrying it back to the kitchen.

'Are you done with this?' She could handle that. It was easy interaction. There were only two ways they could answer, yes or no. There was virtually no way of turning it around and making her the bad guy.

Well, there was one person who felt the need to get snobby once and spit back, "Do I _look_ like I'm done?" to which Wendy bit the inside of her cheek and fled the scene before it could escalate further. According to the waitress on shift that night he was testy with everyone so she shouldn't have taken it personally. But what the woman didn't realize was Wendy was _excellent_ at taking things personally. Hence the reason she wasn't a waitress.

Wendy cleaned the plate and stacked it with the rest before retrieving the bag of salt and storing it under the counter. She only had about an hour and a half left of her shift and she was counting down the minutes. All she could think about was her bed and how satisfying it was going to be to collapse onto it.

There was a bit of commotion in the back that Wendy didn't pay much attention to until Mike peeked his head around the corner.

"Hey, can you finish unloading the pallet? I gotta help Pete fix the stove."

Clearly it was a rhetorical question because he left before Wendy had the chance to reply.

Wendy sighed before making her way down the narrow hallway outside the kitchen. She pushed open the back door, feeling a rush of warm air hit her and she was met with two large pallets, one of which had been unloaded and the other still stacked high with boxes.

Wendy wrinkled her nose. She hated coming to the back of the restaurant. Rotting food permeated the air from the dumpster and that mixed with the harsh scent of stale cigarette smoke made her insides churn.

Sniffing and rubbing her nose, she walked over to the stacked pallet. The ties had already been clipped which meant the top of the stack was leaning precariously to the left. She wasn't tall enough to reach the boxes up there without being squished so she grabbed a plastic step stool and climbed up until she was level with them. Lucky for her the boxes up there weren't very heavy so she grabbed each one individually, cradling it to her chest as she stepped down the stool to place it on the ground before climbing back up. It was a tedious process but it wasn't difficult.

Eventually she was able to kick the step stool away and just pull from the top on her tip-toes. The boxes were starting to get bigger the further down the stack she got and she huffed when a particularly hefty one fell into her arms after she pulled it down. There was a loud _smack_ as she gracefully dropped it on the ground next to the other boxes.

She was getting into a decent rhythm with the unloading, humming various tunes under her breath as she aimed for a tall box only about an inch or so above her head. It didn't seem very heavy at first but misjudging its weight turned out to be her first mistake. Thanks to gravity the box's top-heavy side flipped over the wrong edge and Wendy wasn't prepared at all to catch it.

"No, no, no!" she cried.

The heavy and undoubtedly expensive items cluttered and clanged inside the box and she grunted as she tried grabbing it while stumbling to the side. She waited for the impact, a wince already tugging at the corners of her mouth as she pictured Mike's disapproving glare, but a quick hand reached out and grabbed the other side of the box before it could hit the ground.

At first she thought Mike had come to her rescue but as she looked up her eyes were met with a pair of tight white pants that definitely weren't the middle-aged man's style.

She followed the pants up to a black mesh shirt, a dark coat with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, and a head of wild blonde hair. A pair of white teeth flashed at her under the glow of the nearby streetlamp and she carefully returned the smile, unable to miss the way the hairs along her arms stood up like the air around her had become electrified. She hated that she immediately recognized who he was.

"Thanks," she told him quietly. He had one hand splayed out under the box, appearing content with its weight with a lit cigarette in the other.

"Yeah," he said laughingly, seemingly amused with her lack of strength and coordination. "Where to?"

"I got it, thanks," she dismissed quickly, winding her arm under the box.

The blonde looked doubtful but he eased up and the second he loosed his hold the box tilted forward and she almost fell over trying to grab it. Her cheeks tinted pink at his sniggering as he held the box back up.

"I ask again," he smirked, "where to?"

"Um, just over here," she muttered, nodding towards the other boxes. He followed her over to them and they sat the box down together. She wiped her palms on her jeans, feeling that familiar twinge of embarrassment in her gut. "Thanks."

"Why do that out here?" he asked. When Wendy frowned over at him he gestured to the pallet. "Why not just do it inside? You'll have to take all those boxes in there anyway."

"Because the pallet's too heavy," she stated obviously, walking back over to the boxes. He leaned against the brick wall a few feet away where Wendy assumed he'd been before. How had she not noticed him? "Plus the delivery guy has to pick up the empty pallets in the morning so they can be used again."

"You couldn't just push it inside?" he pressed. Wendy gave him a perplexed look, unsure of why the subject mattered.

"How do you expect us to get that through that?" she pointed from the wide pallet to the singular back door. The blonde shrugged.

"I don't know. Circumference of the pallet divided by the width of the door…" he wrinkled his nose, waving the cigarette next to his face as if the action would generate an epiphany. Wendy had a hard time following his thought process, wondering what kind of bizarre formula he was trying to come up with. Then his face relaxed and he lifted a shoulder with an easy grin. "I don't know, I never was good at math."

Despite her wariness Wendy huffed a quick laugh. "Yeah, me neither."

There was a brief moment of silence. She could feel his eyes on her as he took a long drag from his cigarette, his gaze tickling the side of her face and making her skin feel itchy. She started pulling the next box down from the pile when he opened his mouth.

"So, _perv_ …"

He let the comment hang, a teasing chime to his voice, and the box smacked back down on the stack when she lost her grip and her face turned red. It was like he'd been waiting for the opportune moment to bring it up and her stomach flipped.

"I wasn't _watching_ you," she insisted in a hiss, turning back to face him with a glare in preparation to defend herself. He didn't appear taken aback by her heated response, simply grinning around his cigarette as he inclined an eyebrow. "It _sounded_ like you'd been—"

"Eating her, right," he nodded as if he'd forgotten, eyes shimmering like he found the idea entertaining. Wendy licked her lips.

"Not eating her," she denied but she didn't elaborate further, figuring the silence spoke for itself. He decided to fill it anyway.

"Killing her, then."

"It was _natural_ for me to think that considering the circumstances," she told him steadily, finding it strange that she was discussing the concept of murder to a stranger. "What did you expect?"

He hummed, still grinning. "We'll be quieter next time."

Wendy bristled at the thought, her heart doing strange things in remembrance of how flushed the girl had been with his mouth on her neck and the curly-haired boy's hand buried in her hair. She reached for the box again, feeling agitated.

"Need help?" he asked just to irritate her further.

"No," she snipped. "These are store property."

As if the fact justified his lack of authority in handling them. He lifted his palms in surrender, cigarette hanging limply out of the corner of his mouth. Wendy watched the orange glow as he hollowed his cheeks, taking a hit and tasting it in the back of his throat before blowing the smoke up into the air.

"You shouldn't be doing that out here you know," she informed him as she finally pulled the box down and carried it over to the others. The blonde lifted his brows and gazed pointedly down at the other cigarette butts scattered along the pavement in a deliberate pile. Wendy wanted to roll her eyes at the laziness of people. "Doesn't mean you should too."

"I'm done anyway."

He took one last drag before dropping the cigarette and crushing it under the toe of his boot. Wendy had to bite back a retort. There was a dumpster directly across from them. How hard was it to walk thirty feet?

"My brothers are inside," he informed her, pushing away from the wall with a lighthearted skip in his step. "What's good at this place? We're starving."

"Well," Wendy said, bending down to grab the last few boxes. "We're known for our burgers."

"They real juicy?"

Wendy gave him an odd look but considered the question. It's not like it was against the law to have a preference. "I guess so. People like them."

The corner of his lips curved up. Wendy had a hard time meeting his eyes. He had a very angular face but it wasn't necessarily unappealing to look at. It was youthful, his skin rich yet slightly pale with no blemishes or marks.

"See you 'round."

He gave her a two-finger salute before ambling across the building and turning the corner. She didn't miss the smirk he flashed in her direction before disappearing and she pursed her lips in response, the hairs along her arms finally settling.

"Weird," she muttered.

She quickly finished up the pallet and when it was empty she stacked it (with much more sweating and straining than she cared to admit) on top of the other for the delivery man to pick up at dawn. Wiping her forehead she pulled the back door open and went in search of Mike to see if he wanted her to bring the boxes in or leave them outside for him to take care of. He had his own special way of organizing them and this wouldn't be the first time someone invoked his wrath for stashing the supplies in the incorrect order. Whatever that order was. Seriously, they tried everything – alphabetical, categorical, sell by date, color, size… nothing added up.

"Damn it," someone hissed and Wendy poked her head into the kitchen to see Mike nursing his finger with a disgruntled look as Pete, the evening chef, smiled in dazed triumph.

Wendy didn't like making assumptions about people for obvious reasons but she was fairly certain Pete Cardiff smoked weed. As in, on the job. He always had this glazed look in his eye that he once vehemently argued as pink eye. If that were the case, Pete has had pink eye for the last four months and it probably wasn't in the best interest of anyone that he be cooking food to be consumed by the general public. At least when he brought up the pink eye that one time he was sent home, proving that Paula's had some sort of health code.

"Well, the blasted thing works," Mike stated with a scowl.

"Hey," Wendy said to get his attention. He looked over at her as Pete began to heat up the stove. Well, more than it already was. "Do you want me to bring the boxes in or…?"

"No, I got it," Mike gave Pete a sideways glare before lumbering out of the kitchen.

Pete grinned at Wendy for whatever reason and she returned it awkwardly, leaving a second later before he had the chance to make conversation. She had nothing against Pete, honest. He was a genuinely nice guy in his late twenties who had a white cat named Princess. And he made a mean stir-fry that unfortunately wasn't on the restaurant's menu. But she was almost positive he was stoned like ninety-six percent of the time. Maybe that was what made him so pleasant.

Wendy made to walk across the hall where the sink was but she realized there was nothing left for her to clean. As she scoured her brain for her mental checklist she was reminded of the blonde from outside. He said his brothers were there and try as she might she couldn't ignore the burning curiosity. She wondered what his brothers looked like and if they were as strange as he was. Figuring she could reorganize some of the table menus while she was at it, she made her way up front with plans to sneak a peek at them.

What she didn't expect to see were three other strikingly familiar boys.

The wild-haired blonde was facing her at one of the middle tables playing with a blue crayon, the brunette on one side and the curly-haired boy on the other. The other blonde, which Wendy had so aptly named 'the leader', had his trenchcoat-covered back to her.

 _Those_ were his brothers?

For the life of her Wendy couldn't come up with any logical evidence that pointed to them being siblings. From what she could tell they looked nothing alike. Maybe they were all adopted?

Well, those menus were never getting organized now. She moved behind the bar and leaned on her elbows out of sight until only the top of her head could be seen over the high-rise counter. After a brief pause she lifted her head a tiny bit until her eyes peered over the counter, subtly-not-so-subtly studying them from afar. The blonde she'd talked to outside was scribbling something on one of the coloring pages – where in the world had he gotten that? – while the curly-haired boy watched on with all the gleeful amusement of a five-year-old. The leader was slouched in his seat with nothing in front of him, staring off into space. The brunette was the only one with a menu in his hands.

"Total hotties, huh?" a feminine voice whispered conspiratorially in her ear. Wendy jumped badly and gazed up at Jennifer, the waitress, who had her glittering hazel eyes trained in their direction like a cat ready to pounce.

"Yeah," Wendy offhandedly replied. She turned back to look at them. The blonde lifted the coloring page, displaying some indecipherable chicken scratch drawing that had the curly-haired boy giggling into his fist. She frowned. "Where'd he get the crayons?"

"I gave them to him," Jennifer answered simply. Wendy shot her a baffled look. She shrugged. "What, he asked."

Wendy shook her head. She tried to look down at the seating chart in front of her but her eyes kept drifting back up to the boys at the table.

"That one with the dark hair is stunningly pretty," Jennifer assessed. Wendy almost smiled.

"I think he has a girlfriend."

Jennifer was put off by this. "How do you know?"

"I always see him with a girl. Short black hair, wears ripped tights."

Jennifer tilted her head in consideration. "The blonde one then."

Wendy side-eyed her. "Which one?"

"The one facing away from us. He's very mysterious and melancholy in a devil-may-care sort of way. He's got that broody lead singer vibe which is pretty hot. But," she added thoughtfully, "the one with the curly hair is all smiley like he's innocent even though you can totally tell he isn't. I bet he'd be a lot of fun, if you follow me. The other blonde is taller though and I like them tall."

"Why don't you just go for all of them?" Wendy drawled, smiling a little to herself.

Jennifer was a bit ditzy, never really settling down with anyone but always eager to socialize and stay out until the odd hours. Wendy guessed she was probably in her mid-twenties, only going back to school once to get her GED and content on being a sofa-surfer, but she had a big heart and was one of the favorites at Paula's for her outgoing personality. She was a people-pleaser even though she'd never admit it to anyone.

"Tempting," Jennifer replied and she made it sound like it was. The hungry gleam in her eyes was a little worrisome but Wendy was pretty sure she could handle herself. It was the boys she wasn't sure she could handle. Jennifer muttered a 'wish me luck' out of the corner of her mouth before prancing around the counter and skipping up to their table with her notepad out and sultry smile on display.

Wendy forced her eyes away after a few seconds and doodled on the seating chart with a pen until Jennifer returned. She gave Pete their orders before leaning against the counter next to Wendy with a sigh.

"Did you win them over?" Wendy asked without looking up.

"Not yet, I'm just warming up," Jennifer said with a devious smile. "I'm pretty sure two of them checked me out though."

"Mazel tov."

Jennifer grinned like she was on cloud nine. "I think I need a smoke. Be back in a jiff."

Wendy followed her out with her eyes, not missing the way she tossed a smile over her shoulder at the table before pushing open the doors. The blondes (excluding the leader) seemed most pleased with this. Wendy tried to ignore the uneasiness in her stomach.

She passed the time by playing tic-tac-toe with herself on the back of the seating chart. She was just finishing up her fifth round when the clanging of plates rattled behind her.

"Order up!" Pete called in his unnecessarily dramatic tenor.

Wendy glanced back at the steaming plates – the blonde must've taken her advice because they were all burgers – before her eyes flickered to the front door anxiously. She couldn't see Jennifer anywhere outside, knowing she wasn't one of the unsanitary people that smoked by the building. Wendy bit her lip and carefully straightened her spine until she was standing up. Clearly all the boys heard Pete's announcement because the music playing over the speakers wasn't loud and there was literally no one else in the lobby aside from them. When she caught the wild-haired blonde's eye he grinned wolfishly at her and she looked away.

Wendy leaned through the window to Pete. "Hey, is Mike around?"

"Think he's in storage," was Pete's reply.

Wendy gave the table one last cursory glance before jogging down the hallway. Mike was emptying one of the boxes and he looked up when she appeared.

"Um, Jennifer's on her break and we have customers whose food is ready…" she left the open-ended comment hanging in the air and Mike gave her a bemused look.

"So?"

Wendy licked her lips nervously. "So should I bring them their food or go find Jennifer? I don't have a food-handlers card so I know I'm not supposed to deal with people's orders…"

Mike rolled his eyes. "I don't think the Department of Public Health is going to care about you carrying a tray of food twenty feet."

"But I'm not certified," she said meekly.

"Do you have good balance?"

Wendy was momentarily thrown by the question. "What?"

"Do you have good balance? Are you prone to having two left feet?"

"Um," Wendy squinted. "No? I mean, yes to the first, no to the second."

"And can you lift at least ten pounds?"

"Yes…" though the evidence earlier pointed to the contrary.

"Congratulations, you're now certified," Mike smiled brazenly. "Temporarily."

He returned to his organizing, wordlessly ending the discussion before Wendy could argue.

Her lips formed a thin line as she headed back out into the main room. Why couldn't they have two waitresses on call? It was poor staffing. She collected the tray from the window, a bit surprised by the weight of it only for a moment before stiffly carrying it to their table. The tall blonde was watching her with too much entertainment, tightening the ball of dread in the pit of her stomach. When she reached them she stood between the chairs of the 'leader' and the curly-haired boy, who was also giving her a sly look as his pointer finger tapped his bottom lip.

"Um," she croaked for the umpteenth time, clearing her throat immediately after. "I have your food?"

"Need a hand with that?" the tall blonde asked pleasantly. Wendy ignored him.

"I, uh, don't know whose is whose so if you could just—"

"They're all the same," the man in the long coat informed her, his voice monotonous but oddly hypnotizing. Wendy stared at him for a good five seconds before blinking and shaking her head.

"Right."

She steadily sat all of their plates in front of them, blushing a little when she had to lean in front of the curly-haired boy to reach the tall blonde. He followed her with his eyes as she stood back up, avoiding his gaze despite how his colorful jacket made him hard to ignore. Clearing her throat again she rested the empty tray against her stomach before giving them a tight smile. Being so close to all of them at once was a bit overwhelming in the sense that the air in her throat felt caught, her stomach tugging and twisting unpleasantly every time she made accidental eye contact with one of them.

"Is there anything else I can get you?"

"How about your name," the tall blonde suggested. He ignored the disapproving look the 'leader' sent him, giving Wendy a slow smile.

"I'm sorry?" her brows knitted.

"You never told me outside," he said as if it were reason enough. "C'mon, we had a nice conversation. I can't be the only one who appreciated it. I'm Paul, if it helps. That's Dwayne," he nodded to the brunette, "David," he pointed to the man directly across from him and then lastly motioned to the curly-haired boy, "and that's Marko."

Marko. That had been his name. Her gaze lingered on him a second longer than the rest and he dropped his hand from his mouth, drumming his fingers on the table next to his plate instead. He somehow managed to give her an open-mouthed smile while at the same time biting the inside of his lip, brightening his already angelic-looking face. She quickly averted her gaze.

"Wendy," she finally said, her head buzzing. "My name is Wendy."

"Like the food joint," Paul exclaimed. Like she'd never heard _that_ one before.

"Yeah," she replied lamely, subtly taking a step back. Marko's blue eyes were still glued to her face.

"Where's your red hair?" he asked. His voice only managed to make her head feel worse. She eyed him out of her peripherals, noticing the way his cheeks were tinted pink despite his light complexion. It took a second for his question to register and another second for her to figure out he was making another Wendy's reference.

"I don't have red hair."

"That's alright," Paul grinned sharply. "He prefers brunettes."

Marko chuckled but didn't disagree. Wendy felt hot and she took another step back.

"Okay just let me know if you need anything but Jennifer should be back soon so you probably won't have to since she's the one who's supposed to be waiting on you so you can just ask her when she gets back which should be in a few minutes," she rambled, tumbling over her words in one monstrous run-on sentence as she continued backing away. By the time she was finished everyone, including David, was giving her an amused look and she quickly spun on her heels as she heard Paul shout,

"Thanks, Wendy darling! Oh shit, Wendy Darling," there was a slap. "Get it?" Then laughter.

Wendy was rubbing her temples with her fingers as she disappeared into the kitchen, ignoring Pete who was humming to himself.

"Unbelievable," she muttered. She couldn't have felt more mortified. Clearly they were all having a go at her and she fell right into their trap. It's like they could sense she had no social skills, especially towards attractive young men who made as little sense to her as her statistics class. Not to mention… " _Brothers_ ," she exclaimed quietly.

She still couldn't see it, even if they all had the same quirky sense of humor. Well, possibly excluding David. He didn't seem very amused with her but she could've just caught him on a bad night. Or maybe that was just his personality. If that was the case, Jennifer was frighteningly spot-on with her theoretic description of him.

She tried shaking off her jitters and hid in the kitchen until she heard the chime of the front door. She whipped her head out and spotted Jennifer gliding back into the building, smiling over at the boys before heading across the hall to wash her hands. Wendy cleverly chose not to share her painfully awkward encounter with Jennifer, instead smiling at the girl once she saw her. She watched as Jennifer headed out to check on the boys and breathed a sigh of relief. She only had half an hour to go. She couldn't wait to get home where she could just sleep the night off and pretend it never happened.

Another twenty minutes passed before Jennifer came dancing into the kitchen where she found Pete still humming and Wendy doing a crossword puzzle in the corner of the room with a pencil that had been snapped in half.

"They told me to keep the change," Jennifer announced, biting her bottom lip as she grinned so wide she almost split her face in half. "No digits, though."

"That's too bad," Wendy mused, not feeling sorry at all.

"I'll get one of them next time," Jennifer sounded sure of it. She stuffed her hands inside her apron pockets. "Since Mike's not around you could probably head home now if you wanted. It's dead out there."

Wendy finally looked up.

"What about their plates?"

Jennifer waved a hand. "I can get them. It's not like I've got anything else better to do. Jeffrey doesn't come in until 12:30."

As if on cue Wendy yawned. "Well if you don't mind."

Jennifer ushered her out and after saying goodbye to Pete, Wendy collected her things from her locker, stamped her timesheet and headed out.

Her bed was beginning to sound more and more like a dream. She hated that she didn't have her own car, knowing that even if she wanted to she couldn't have asked Quincy for a ride because he was probably still working. She considered the possibility that she may have to start saving up for one, especially if she was going to be pulling more night shifts. Mike didn't let her start working nights until recently because of her age. She knew one thing was for sure: if the list of missing persons continued to go up, she'd have to find some sort of way to get home at night that didn't involve walking alone. She practically had a flashing neon sign dangling from above her head that said "KIDNAP ME".

Blinking the sleep out of her eyes she quickened her pace. She was too deliriously tired to realize that the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up throughout her entire journey home.

* * *

 **I feel like I'm getting these chapters out a lot faster than usual. So I changed the summary because I didn't feel the first one really drew you in as a reader. I'm not sure if this one is any better. Summaries are the bane of my existence so don't be surprised if it changes two or three more times before this story is over. As always, thanks for reading! Until next time xoxo**


	4. The Painting

**Disclaimer: I don't own _The Lost Boys_ or anything recognizable associated with it. I only own my characters and the plot of this story.**

* * *

 **4\. The Painting**

Wendy Valentine couldn't be more annoyed with the human race.

She was under the impression that grocery shopping after eight pm wasn't a common pastime but clearly she was mistaken because the Mini Mart down the block from her apartment had at least a third of Santa Carla's entire population swarming its aisles like it was a fire sale and everything must go.

The store didn't even have very good deals and it wasn't the biggest shop in southern California. The only reason Wendy even went to it was because it was shortest distance she had to walk and all of her coupons had a Mini Mart stamp in the upper left corner. She had every intentions of doing a quick basic necessities shopping spree while all the families and suburban house wives and middle-aged men who always made that late beer run were elsewhere. But they weren't elsewhere. They were all crowded down aisle five herding the paper plates which was exactly where Wendy needed to be.

"This is unbelievable," she muttered, being shoved once again by someone stomping past her to retrieve plastic ware.

Where did they all come from? The store wasn't even that popular. Did Santa Carla even have this many people? She considered the possibility that most of them were tourists. Every few months or so the city saw an influx of people who felt the need to visit for reasons Wendy did not understand. There were better cities to see that were much more picturesque, not to mention clean, such as Malibu or San Francisco or Hollywood. Maybe not so much the last one in terms of clean, but it had a giant sign on a grassy hill and wasn't that good enough?

Since it was already mid-July tourist season made sense, but seriously. Why did everyone feel the need to get paper plates right this second?

Wendy waited impatiently at the end of the aisle with her little basket of goodies. After Quincy's shift at the auto shop he all but collapsed on the couch the second he got home, leaving Wendy to fend for herself. She'd only been off work about an hour when he finally graced her with his presence and being the nice sister that she regrettably was, she'd been waiting for him to get home so they could come up with a game plan for dinner. When she'd asked him what he wanted, she'd received a muffled snore in response as his face was stuffed in one of the throw pillows. Realizing he was going to be absolutely no help, she decided she'd make a quick stop at the store to buy some things they needed before grabbing takeout somewhere.

She'd snatched up a wad of cash from Quincy's room before leaving. He could pay for his own damn food.

Realizing there was no hope for a reprieve just yet, Wendy gave any annoyed sigh and made to turn around and find somewhere else to linger, only to slam directly into another body with an _oof_.

A handful of items scattered on the floor and it took a few seconds for the shock of the impact to wear off before Wendy realized she actually hit someone. With her basket. And that someone was currently kneeling on the floor trying to organize all their things that she'd knocked out of their hands.

"Oh my god," Wendy stuttered once her brain reconnected to her mouth. She quickly dropped to the floor in front of the person, which turned out to be a girl with wavy dark hair, and helped her gather her things. "I am so sorry, I wasn't even paying attention to where I was going," she babbled. "I should've looked and saw you there, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," the girl said, laughing a bit to ease the tension despite Wendy's moment of self-loathing. "I guess it was partially my fault for thinking I could carry all of this."

"I'm so sorry," Wendy said again, but this time with less hysteria. The girl raised her head to look at her and there was a fleeting moment of recognition that whirred to life in Wendy's brain. Something about the girl's dark skin and sweet smile felt familiar to her but she couldn't figure out why. Maybe they went to school together?

"It's fine," the girl laughed fully this time, flashing a mouth full of white teeth. With Wendy's help the two managed to rearrange the items in the girl's arms and carefully they stood. The girl looked down at her haphazard pile of frozen dinners, drugstore makeup, cookies, and half-gallon jug of fruit punch. "Maybe I should get a basket for this."

"Let me help you," Wendy insisted, still feeling guilty.

The girl accepted her help and Wendy jogged to the front of the store where she grabbed an empty basket near the door. The clerk at the counter gave her the stink eye when he saw the full basket of unpaid goods she was hurtling towards the exit but she quickly flashed him an innocent smile and meekly lifted the other basket to which he pursed his lips at. She hurried back to the girl and held the basket out for her to place her things in.

"Thanks," the girl said, relieved to empty her full arms.

"Is anything broken?" Wendy asked, peering down at the miscellaneous items.

"I don't think so," the girl said, looking too. Wendy breathed a sigh of relief. The girl moved the basket handles to the crook of her arm and smiled again at Wendy before glancing at her basket. "What about yours? Any casualties?"

"Oh," Wendy had all but forgotten about her basket. Aside from the crack in the side of the basket she was _not_ going to be telling the clerk about everything seemed to be in order. "Doesn't look like it."

"Having a late night shop as well?" the girl asked, hovering at the end of the aisle where they collided. Wendy nodded with a suppressed eye roll.

"Yeah. I thought I'd be the only one but as you can see…" she waved her hand around, leaving the other half of her statement unspoken before frowning at the other side of the aisle. "I've been waiting for the paper plates but I'm guessing once that crowd clears there won't be any left. You'd think all those plates were signed by Johnny Cash or something."

The girl's eyes lit up.

"That's where I was going too," she said with a chuckle. "It's usually not this crowded, especially in the middle of the week. I'm a bit of a night owl so I almost always do my shopping then."

Wendy smiled a little before giving the girl a subtle once over.

"So are you from around here?" she asked in what she hoped was a casual tone. She was determined to silence the voice inside her head that told her she knew this girl. It couldn't hurt to make further conversation anyway since they were both waiting for the same thing and the girl seemed fairly pleasant to be around.

"Yeah actually I live up the block in those apartments on the corner," she said, pointing in a vague direction. Wendy's eyebrows shot up.

"Really? The brick building?" the girl nodded with knitted eyebrows and Wendy wanted to laugh at the irony. "I live there too with my brother. Did you recently move in? I don't think I've ever seen you before."

She was almost positive that's not where she'd seen this girl but maybe it was just a fleeting thing once, like passing her while going down the stairs or briefly spotting her in the lobby.

"I moved in about two months ago. I'm going solo for now," the girl shrugged an offhanded shoulder. "I'm in the middle of looking for a roommate," the girl gave her a cautiously optimistic look. "You don't happen know anyone in need of a place to stay that makes at least four hundred a month do you?"

Wendy shook her head apologetically. "No, sorry. All of my friends live with their parents and, well, they don't have to pay any rent," when the girl tilted her head quizzically Wendy explained, "They're all in high school."

The girl nodded in understanding and Wendy mentally crossed off the possibility of knowing her from school. Clearly if she could afford living on her own she was no longer in high school. But the nagging pull in the back of Wendy's head didn't cease and she knew it'd drive her crazy until she figured it out.

Out of her peripherals she noticed the crowd was finally thinning out and she motioned forward.

"Quick before more people come," she whisper-shouted and the girl laughed before speed-walking behind her to the shelf. There were only four bags of plates left.

They hurriedly snatched two up before exchanging secret smiles like they'd just successfully orchestrated an impressive bank robbery. The two naturally fell into step as they headed towards the front of the store where a long line had formed behind the single available register.

"I'm Maria by the way," the girl informed her. Wendy tried not to frown too openly when the name didn't jog a memory.

"Wendy," she replied. Maria grinned.

"Like the restaurant?"

Wendy held back an irritated sigh. "Yep, like the restaurant."

Maria winced at her tone of voice. "You probably get that a lot huh?"

"No," Wendy lied airily, shaking her head slowly. The last thing she wanted to do was complain about the reference of her name to a potentially new friend. "Not really."

Maria arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow disbelievingly.

"I have a cousin named Roxanne and she always gets the, 'You mean The Police's Roxanne?' line all the time. I'm willing to bet more people know about Wendy's than they do The Police."

"It's a real shame if they do," Wendy relented with a careful smile as the line moved up. Maria shook her head with a light laugh.

Eventually they reached the front of the line and Maria was kind enough to let Wendy go first. The clerk gave Wendy a suspicious leer and she tried to give him a cheerful smile right back as she set her basket on the counter but the sheer monotonous look on his face resulted in her smile fading quickly.

After handing him her coupons she paid for her items and hung off to the side until Maria was done. The girl seemed surprised that Wendy waited for her but she didn't appear put off by it and together they walked out of the store. In Wendy's defense it had been a long time since she had a decent conversation with a stranger and Maria seemed like a genuinely nice person. Wendy had never been against making new friends, she was just wasn't very good with the execution. Hence the reason she'd had the same friend since freshman year, not that there was anything even remotely wrong with Naomi.

"So you're in high school?" Maria asked as they made their way up the hill to their building.

Wendy nodded. "I'm seventeen. I'll be a senior this year."

"Nineteen," Maria motioned to herself. "I took off after high school. Not that there was anything wrong with where I lived," she hastily corrected before Wendy had the chance to react. "I just felt like I needed to be somewhere else. I spent my nineteenth birthday in my first apartment in the city, which ended up costing too much in the long run, and even though it was my first birthday alone it was the first birthday I actually enjoyed because I finally felt like my own person."

"Wow," Wendy remarked, eyebrows lifted. "That sounds really brave. I don't think I could ever just leave home like that."

"I didn't think I could either," Maria noted. "But once I did, I was glad. I felt like it was time to take risks."

"What do you think of Santa Carla so far? I've got to be honest, it wouldn't have been my first choice," Wendy grinned lightly. Maria laughed.

"I like it. I like being near the beach and the nightlife is pretty cool. I couldn't afford to live in Santa Monica," she explained and Wendy nodded in understanding. Santa Carla was like the cheap, messier knock-off of Santa Monica except with more carnies and less nightclubs. "I've mostly been on my own though. I'm still looking for a job which is hard because I don't have any job experience. I met these two girls a couple weeks ago and they've been nice. We don't talk much but they invited me to the movies with them once."

Wendy almost dropped her bags as recognition struck her.

The movies.

A vivid image of a girl with brown hair and lovely dark skin smiling secretly at a certain curly-haired boy as she walked with her friends down the hall to her theater flashed in Wendy's mind. The boy, who Wendy finally remembered was Marko, watched her go before Paul, his 'brother', slapped him on the back. The girl had been Maria – that's where she knew her from!

But what made Wendy's heart plummet into her stomach was the fact that Maria seemed to know those boys, or at least Marko. And from what Wendy heard they all seemed to have arrived in Santa Carla around the same time. It could've been a coincidence but Wendy had her fair share of those tonight so it made the possibility seem slim. How well did Maria know them? Were they all friends or did she just know Marko? Something about those boys unsettled her (Naomi mocked her once by asking if her 'spidey senses were tingling') and she could only hope Maria knew what she was getting herself into by associating with them.

"That's good," Wendy replied in a strained voice when she realized she hadn't said anything. "At least you're making friends."

"I suppose," mused Maria, oblivious to the way Wendy had stiffened. "I'm hard-pressed to find a place that'll hire me which is probably the most frustrating. I tried the mall, which is where I met those girls, and I applied at two stores but haven't heard back from them."

"Have you tried restaurants?" Wendy asked, trying to shake her discomfort off.

"A few but none of them seem to be hiring," Maria frowned. That made sense to Wendy because most food joints hired teenagers and chances were all of the summer jobs had been snatched up the moment school let out.

"You could try the boardwalk," Wendy said though she loathed suggesting it. "My brother works there but his job isn't really ideal. He runs the rides and tears tickets. You can try some of the gift shops there though and I think there's a few clothing stores."

"Maybe I will," Maria smiled appreciatively.

They eventually reached the front entrance of their building and with each other's help they got the doors open. The two made for the stairs, both inwardly wishing the place had an elevator, and hauled themselves up the first round of steps.

"Which floor are you on?" Wendy asked her.

"Second."

"That's right below us," said Wendy. They circled up the second flight of stairs. "Maybe one day if you're bored you can come up to ours for dinner or something," she paused as she mentally envisioned the state of their apartment and the foul reminder of who her roommate was. "On second thought, maybe you shouldn't."

Maria grinned. "You said you lived with your brother right?"

"Unfortunately."

"I'm guessing he's not the best apartment buddy?"

"A pterodactyl would be a better apartment buddy."

Maria tossed her head back and laughed.

They finally made it to the second floor and Maria branched off from the stairs to her front door that was only a few feet away. It took some rearranging of the bags hanging from her arms before she had a free hand to fish her keys out of her pocket. Once she got her door unlocked, she tossed Wendy a quick smile.

"Dinner with you and your brother would be nice," she said as she held the door open with the toe of her shoe. "As much as I like being on my own I'm not a fan of being lonely."

Wendy nodded with a smile. "I'll come up with something then. Maybe on a day my brother's conveniently not there."

Maria chuckled. "Whatever works for you. I'm free pretty much whenever so just give me a knock and let me know."

Wendy tried to wave with her arm tucked through three bags, probably making herself look awkward.

Heaving a deep breath she ascended the next flight of stairs once Maria waved back, noting with distain that the other girl was clearly in better shape than she was because she hadn't been panting like a sumo wrestler in a sauna after climbing the first set of stairs. Wendy grunted as she reached her floor and practically dragged her feet to her apartment. Shuffling around much like Maria had, it was a struggle for her to unlock their door and when she finally managed to turn the lock she had to force the door open with her knee and lug all the bags through the narrow doorframe.

The noise must've woken Quincy who bleared up at her with horrible bedhead from the couch, creases decorating the side of his face.

"Thanks for the help," she drawled, kicking the door shut behind her. Quincy groaned and stretched as she sat all the bags on the counter after shoving random items out of the way. Rubbing his eyes Quincy sat up on the couch and squinted in her direction, smacking his lips together.

"What's for dinner?"

Wendy went rigid as cold realization hit her.

She forgot to buy food.

* * *

"These look amazing," Wendy marveled with awe.

She was sitting in Naomi's basement several days later with the girl in question covered in paint-splattered overalls. Naomi invited her over to see her progress on her paintings and if it hadn't been obvious to Wendy before that Naomi was talented, it was now.

She had four paintings finished and one in the works. The ones that were finished consisted of a sunset portrait of the beach with the setting sun reflecting on the water, a beautifully detailed night portrait of the Los Angeles skyline that had to have been taken from memory, a lovely garden full of water color consisting of baby's breath and cherry blossoms, and the last a dazzling portrait of the Santa Carla boardwalk full of rich colors and black silhouettes of mingling carnival goers. The one she was in the midst of finishing was a black and white painting of her mother from a profile view.

She'd been talking about selling her paintings for weeks with the exception of her mother's portrait, which was apparently one of the reasons she called Wendy over.

"I finally have a slot at the boardwalk," Naomi told her after sitting her colors down. She grinned excitedly over at Wendy, her knees bouncing up and down so fast they were almost blurry. "I'm going to finally sell them. Gary's coming over soon with his Dad's truck so we can drive the table over there with the paintings."

Wendy's face split into a large smile. "Naomi, that's so exciting! I'm so happy for you!"

She jumped up to give her friend a hug and Naomi laughed as she returned it. When they pulled back Wendy gave her another smile.

"If I could I'd buy one of them from you," Wendy admitted, feeling a bit upset that she didn't have the money. Naomi waved her comment off.

"Don't sweat it. Once your birthday rolls around I'll paint something for you," she winked. Wendy clasped her hands together as Naomi went into detail about how the night was going to go. "So my setup is going to be next to the face painting – I know right? Perfect placement – and I get two hours. I'm going to bring the four big paintings along with a few smaller ones that way there's more of a variety. Gary has to work at the gym but he said he'd be able to pick me up after."

"This is so awesome," Wendy grinned. "What did your Dad say when you told him?"

Naomi shrugged. "He was happy for me. He's never been against my painting, he just wishes I'd go for something more stable I guess."

"Like a detective," Wendy surmised. Naomi lifted a shoulder.

"At least he supports me no matter what I do. I don't know if I could take the rejection if he didn't. He loved the painting I gave him of his old horses last year for Father's Day. I think it's one of the first times I've seen him almost cry," Naomi chuckled. Wendy knew which painting she was talking about. She always saw it hanging in their living room above the couch.

"Well your paintings are just that good," Wendy complimented. Naomi looked chagrinned.

"Hopefully the people of Santa Carla will like them as much as my Dad did," she said with a hint of worry. Wendy was quick to reassure her.

"They will," she said, sounding sure of it. Naomi looked doubtful but no less eager.

"Do you want to come with?" Naomi asked as she put away her paint for the night. "As happy as I am I don't think I could handle it alone. I kind of feel like I'm being thrown to the sharks."

"I'd love to," Wendy smiled before her expression became sly. "Tonight's the night that people in the artistic community are going to revere the name Naomi Watson."

"Right," Naomi snorted, cleaning out her brushes.

"Just you wait," Wendy said, turning up her nose as if to look posh. "In another five years your autograph will be worth millions."

Naomi looked properly affronted. "You really think it'll take five years? Your faith in me hurts."

Wendy shrugged innocently. "Maybe only four."

"Thanks Wendy," Naomi narrowed her eyes but there was a smile playing on her lips.

"I'm here for you, buddy."

Wendy helped Naomi carry the finished paintings up the stairs. They laid them against the wall in the hallway next to the front door and not a minute later a horn sounded out front. Naomi threw open the door and waved at Gary before shouting that she'd be out in a minute. She ran to her room to get changed in hopes of looking less like a kindergarten finger painting class threw up on her and Wendy slipped into the living room where Joseph Watson was sitting on the couch watching TV.

"You're home early," Wendy noted. Mr. Watson looked over at her and offered a tired smile.

"For the first time in my life," he grunted. "How's your job holding up?"

He liked to sound gruff but it was mostly a front, a practice most likely taken on by the man after years of working with the law. Underneath he was a giant teddy bear who treated Wendy like she was his own daughter. She was incredibly fond of Naomi's Dad.

"Good," Wendy ran a hand through her long hair, twirling a few strands that rested over her shoulder absently. "It's busy but what more can you expect from the summer?"

Mr. Watson nodded. "How's that brother of yours?"

"Still a troublemaker," Wendy smiled a little.

Naomi's father was a pretty big fan of Quincy's, a fact that neither Wendy nor Naomi could ever wrap their heads around. Local law enforcement usually had Quincy at the top of their hit list but not Mr. Watson. Wendy suspected it was the love the two shared for cars. Whenever they happened to be in the same room together, which wasn't often, they always talked mechanics. It was a bunch of mumbo jumbo Wendy couldn't even pretend to understand but both men seemed passionate about it nonetheless. Well, the one man and then Quincy.

Mr. Watson asked a few more questions about Quincy and was in the middle of reading Wendy his typical 'be safe and don't talk to strangers' spiel when Naomi reappeared, sans paint marks and overalls.

"What do you think the prices should be?" Naomi asked as she adjusted her ponytail before clarifying, "Of the paintings."

Wendy didn't have a clue but Mr. Watson felt the need to add his own two cents.

"Your paintings are priceless to me, honey," he told her in a tone that was sure to embarrass her. It worked.

"That's really _not_ what I'm going for, Dad," she argued with pink cheeks.

Mr. Watson rolled his eyes good-naturedly and Wendy cracked a grin.

"You two be safe," he called a few minutes later, following them out the door as they loaded the paintings and foldable table into the bed of Gary's pickup truck. "Stay close to the crowds. We had a meeting at the precinct today about how the percentage of missing persons has gone up twelve percent from last year. We don't want either of you two to become a statistic."

"Noted, Dad."

Wendy offered the balding man a fleeting smile. "We'll be careful, Mr. Watson."

"Be home at eleven," he flashed his daughter a stern look and she seemed exasperated with his parenting but nodded anyway. She danced up to her father and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"Love you, Dad!"

Naomi dragged Wendy into the passenger seat of the pickup truck cramming them both onto one cushion and Mr. Watson waved as Gary pulled out onto the road, slowly disappearing in their rearview mirror. Gary had the radio on lowly and Wendy could hear the muffled beat of a drum and a harmonic hum echo from his uneven speakers. As if hearing her thoughts, Naomi reached across and turned the volume up as Wendy rolled down the window. The warm nighttime air filtered into the car with the melodic hymn of The Beach Boys echoing out onto the road.

Wendy's hair blew chaotically in the wind as the salty scent of the sea filled her sinuses, the air cooling as they approached the ocean on their winding road. The sun hadn't quite set beneath the horizon yet, glowing in hues of diluted oranges and pinks looking much like the painting Naomi had strapped in the back of the truck. Wendy admired the view with her arm stretched out the window, their speed forcing gusts of wind between her spread fingers. She could hear the music from the boardwalk faintly from where they were at, its sparkling lights slowly coming into view as the truck circled around a hill.

When they pulled into the parking lot Naomi was all smiles. Wendy was almost trampled out of the passenger seat as Naomi hurried to get her paintings out of the bed. With Gary's help Wendy pulled the table down from the truck and they followed Naomi to her spot where a bunch of kiosks where set up with jewelry, handmade skirts and fake tattoos. The woman running the face painting stand was working on a lovely flower piece on a little girl's cheek as Wendy and Gary unfolded the table. Naomi had a few stands tucked away to holding the paintings in place on the table and she grabbed a sticky note and pen out of her purse to write the prices down.

After getting a kiss, Gary waved to Wendy and disappeared in the crowd as he headed off to a quick cover shift at the gym. Naomi slapped the prices on the corner of each painting – the larger ones $50 each and the smaller ones $20 – before bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation. Wendy had to bite back a laugh.

"You know," Wendy mused as she admired the paintings on display. "I'm going to be kind of sad to see them go. They're so lovely."

Naomi regarded them with a thoughtful look. "Me too. But look at this way: the next ones I make will probably be a lot better than these and they'll be even _lovelier_ to look at. If I actually manage to sell these in the first place."

"Even if you don't, which you will, do you really think you'd stop painting?" Wendy asked, leaning against the table.

Naomi's lips twisted. "Probably not. It's kind of an addiction at this point."

"Better than being addicted to drugs or something," Wendy pointed out and Naomi laughed a little.

"Do you really think I'll sell any?" she sounded unsure as she bit her lip, playing with her fingers in her lap and Wendy's heart sank. It wasn't often she saw Naomi in a mood other than happy or optimistic and when she did it made her realize how much of a light spirit Naomi usually was. Pessimism didn't look good on her. Wendy placed a comforting hand on Naomi's shoulder.

"You will," Wendy promised.

And it didn't take long before she did. A man in his early thirties seemed to really appreciate one of her smaller paintings and he was quick to snatch it up before anyone else could. He handed Naomi a twenty and thanked her before skirting off, the painting tucked delicately under his arm. Naomi exchanged a gleeful look with Wendy, clutching the twenty dollar bill tightly in her fist as she basked in the afterglow of her first sale.

"I just sold one of my paintings," she said, voice trembling with delight. "I just made a _profit_ off of something I _created_."

"Isn't it wonderful being you?" Wendy grinned, her cheeks nearly sore from smiling with pride.

"It so is," Naomi agreed and the two squeezed hands.

She sold two more paintings quickly after – another small one and the one with the Los Angeles skyline. Naomi had a moment after she counted the ninety dollars she'd earned so far, nearly squeezing Wendy's arm off with delight. Wendy congratulated her through her pain, rubbing the tender skin once Naomi was distracted by the bills. After that there was a bit of a lull in the crowd, the screams from the roller coaster and other carnival rides echoing off the wooden boards beneath them. Naomi seemed satisfied with just sitting at the table admiring her work and Wendy became distracted by the face painter who was drawing an intricate blue pattern on someone's temple.

"Look who it is," a voice interrupted Wendy's trance and she blinked, turning her gaze to find a head of wild blonde hair. Goosebumps rose along her flesh and she sat up a bit straighter. "Hi, Wendy Darling," Paul grinned, his bejeweled hand twinkling under the neon lights.

Wendy's brows wrinkled. "What are you doing here?"

The accusation in her voice was unintentional but Paul didn't seem bothered by it, his dark eyes flashing. She was momentarily thrown by it until she rationalized it was probably just a trick of the light. _You're being paranoid,_ she reminded herself. _Just keep it cool._

"Just browsing," he said, studying the paintings. A girl nearly half his height stood alongside him with shiny black hair and dark tights. Wendy recognized her to be the girl she usually saw with the brunette. Was his name Dwayne? "These yours?"

"No, they're hers," Wendy gestured to Naomi who had been giving Paul an open-mouthed stare ever since he approached. He flashed Naomi a grin in response who shrunk back as if the dazzling way he smiled caused her to physically recoil.

"They look nice," he remarked, leaning forward to get a closer look at them, though he only seemed half-interested. The girl with him hummed in agreement, her arms tucked behind her back as she rocked from side to side as if enjoying the energy around her. Wendy was a bit baffled that Paul had the ability to compliment anyone. The grin still marring his smooth face turned wry almost as if he was able to read her thoughts and Wendy quickly looked away.

"Thanks," Naomi said in a breathy voice, still a bit awestruck by his sudden appearance. It made Wendy want to roll her eyes.

"Where's the rest of your _family_?" she asked Paul, biting out the word 'family' with her arms crossed. Too many of her senses were tingling at his close proximity for her to decipher them individually. What she did know was that he smelled a bit like cinnamon spice and she couldn't tell if it was giving her a headache or making her mouth water.

"Around," he answered vaguely before shooting Wendy an amused look. "You act as if you don't believe me when I say they're my brothers."

She gave a tiny shrug that she hoped looked aloof and uncaring. "They just don't look anything like you is all."

Paul's grin was sharp. "I can assure you the same blood runs through our veins."

"I see."

Wendy still wasn't completely convinced.

She eyed the girl he was standing with carefully, having never actually seen her up close. Her hair was trimmed in a pixie cut, black as the night sky with deep brown eyes and light freckles adorning her fair cheeks. With her round face and short stature her age was impossible to guess but Wendy assumed she was around Paul's age, though the delicate way she held herself suggested she was younger. How Dwayne handled her without breaking her Wendy would never know. The girl must've sensed Wendy's stare for she turned to meet the gaze evenly and Wendy's first urge was to look away, embarrassed at being caught. Despite her cryptic nature the girl smiled and Paul nudged her harshly with his elbow. Despite a flicker of annoyance she didn't bat an eye.

"That's Jules," he mentioned lazily, staring intently at one of the paintings now with a twinkle of mischief.

"I'm a friend of the family," Jules's smile was still pleasant and Paul snorted at her choice of words. Wendy didn't get the joke but she figured she wasn't supposed to.

"Nice to meet you," Wendy said, unsure if it was actually nice or not but at least the girl seemed pleasant.

To Wendy's shock Paul seemed genuinely interested in one of the paintings and once Naomi became aware of this the frighteningly large grin couldn't be removed from her face even if someone told her Twinkies were being discontinued. The two chatted about the prices – of course Paul had to be one of those guys who asked for the price even though the price was clearly stamped on the corner of the painting – before he handed her the cash and Naomi looked like she was about to burst a vein. Paul picked up the painting of the sunset.

"What do you think?" he asked Jules, holding it out for the two of them to see. "Our place could use a little sun, huh?" he snickered to himself and once again Wendy felt like she was missing the punchline.

"Why do you even want it in the first place?" Jules wrinkled her brows. Wendy would've been offended for Naomi if it wasn't for the fact that Jules appeared to harbor no apparent disgust towards the painting itself, but more towards Paul's crude sense of humor.

"For decoration," Paul stated obviously. "It'll make the place look better, yeah?"

"A trashcan would make the place look better," Jules insulted. Paul wasn't fazed by her verbal abuse.

"How are you going to get that home?" Wendy pointed to the painting. Paul had a bemused look on his face at this so she quickly rephrased, "I mean, you drive bikes don't you? How's that going to fit on a bike?"

Paul's grin was predatory again. "Been watching us, Wendy Darling?"

"No," Wendy denied immediately even though it was clearly a lie. Her cheeks tinted pink and she quickly defended herself. "Those motorcycles are loud, it's not like I could _miss_ them."

"If you hop on the back of mine you could hold onto it for me," Paul suggested, a hint of challenge in his tone. Wendy felt warm and she crossed her arms tighter.

"No thank you," she politely declined.

A smirk prodded the corner of Paul's mouth but before he could further advance the conversation, a large leather-clad arm draped over the front of Jules's chest. Dwayne, the tall brunette, nuzzled the girl's temple as she slinked back against him like a cat, needing no reassurance as to who was really behind her, and Wendy was once again struck dumb by the sudden appearance. His face was much more angular than Paul's up close but his features seemed to have flawless symmetry. She had a feeling if the chart of the perfect human face were to be held up in front of him, all the lines would flow harmoniously with the general shape of his everything.

"How'd it go?" Paul asked, referring to some intangible event that must've taken place prior to Dwayne's arrival.

Dwayne shrugged with a tilt of his lips as if to say 'can't complain'. Paul quirked an eyebrow before holding up the painting again with an impish grin.

"What do you think?" he repeated. Dwayne's facial expression didn't change.

"About what?"

"This," Paul shook the painting. "It's our new wall ornament."

"Childish," Dwayne retorted with a detached sense of amusement. Paul chose to ignore his opinion.

Jules leaned her head back and rubbed her nose against Dwayne's exposed neck. He ran his fingers along her arm and she smiled privately against the skin where his neck and shoulder met. Wendy felt like she was intruding on a private moment as she watched them but there was something enthralling about their behavior, like two beings had never been more in sync. She only looked away when Dwayne's hard eyes met hers and she felt something painful pulse behind her eye sockets.

"Where's Marko?" Dwayne asked after finally pulling his intense gaze away from the side of Wendy's face. Her pulse was racing as her closed fist pressed against her sternum. She felt stifled.

For some reason Paul's eyes flicked to Wendy before returning to Dwayne's so quickly that Wendy wasn't sure it even happened.

"Probably charming the skirt off some girl," he said. The answer didn't seem to surprise Dwayne whose attention was better spent on the pliant girl wrapped in his embrace.

Wendy licked her lips and pushed away from the table after realizing Naomi was engaged in a heated discussion with a woman next to her over one of the paintings. For a moment she felt guilty for trying to slip away but she figured once Paul and Dwayne were otherwise occupied somewhere else she could make a return, hopefully before Naomi realized she was gone. She stepped away from the table but didn't get more than two feet before Paul's nosiness halted her mid-step.

"Going somewhere?" he drawled. Wendy bit the inside of her cheek. On the outside Paul's face was innocently curious but she knew he was enjoying her squirming.

"I just need some fresh air."

"You're already outside," he pointed out.

"I need fresher air," she retorted much to Paul's entertainment before turning away, feeling his stare itch the back of her neck as her feet carried her elsewhere.

She greedily breathed in the scent of popcorn and sugary cotton candy the moment she was out of range of their intoxicating scents, rubbing her arms restlessly as she fought the urge to look over her shoulder to make sure they weren't following her. She had to tell herself that she was once again being paranoid. Mr. Watson's speech back at the house had clearly gotten to her, which was probably his intention all along. Plant the seed and it'd eventually grow. He would've been proud if he could see her now, running away like a cat with their tail between their legs even though she probably had no real reason to. Paul seemed to have the most fun tormenting her in that annoying get-under-your-skin sort of way she only thought Quincy was capable of but there was no evidence that pointed to his words being anything more than harmless teasing.

She knew she was being irrational. She wasn't the most trusting person on the planet but she'd never really met anyone that gave her bad vibes either. She wasn't even sure if what Paul or Dwayne or even Jules gave her were bad vibes, there was just something different about them she couldn't put her finger on. And since she didn't know what that something was, her brain immediately pointed to something bad when maybe it wasn't even bad at all. Wendy used to always been the kind of person who tried not to judge someone before she knew them. She didn't really know when that changed.

Wrapping her arms around herself, Wendy milled about the boardwalk on her own for a while to clear her head. The longer she walked, the less stressed she felt and her head no longer felt like it was swimming.

Just as she was about to start heading back in Naomi's direction, she thought she spotted someone familiar in one of the shop windows. It was the video store with the neon lights and wall of TVs that were currently playing the same five second clip of some music video on loop. A head of dark hair was what caught Wendy's eye and she tilted her head forward inquisitively, stepping forward until she reached the front door.

"Maria?" Wendy asked in surprise.

The girl whose back was turned to the door spun around, her brown locks bouncing away from her face and she smiled when she saw Wendy.

"Wendy, hey!" she greeted before stretching her arms out, "I got a job!"

"That's great," Wendy smiled, stepping up to the counter. "When did you start?"

"Yesterday, actually. I came down here the day after you suggested it and applied at this store and the one next door. The manager hired me almost on the spot," she admitted, wrinkling her eyebrows a bit but seeming no less pleased. "It was so great. I guess I should be thanking you."

Wendy waved her off. "No way, you're the one who got the job. Congrats!"

Maria laughed lightly. "Thanks. Are you here alone?"

"No, my friend's selling some of her paintings on the boardwalk," Wendy jabbed a thumb over her shoulder in Naomi's general direction. "I was just taking a walk when I thought I recognized you. Sorry I haven't been by your place by the way," Wendy winced a little. "I've been swamped with work lately and our apartment kind of looks like a train wreck so not the best first impression, not that it ever looks really nice to begin with but when people come over we like to pretend we're functioning adults."

Maria grinned. "Don't worry about it. My schedule's starting to get booked up too," her grin became a little coy. "I'm really excited about it."

"I bet you are," Wendy laughed. Her eyes scanned the shop briefly, noticing a few customers milling about in the aisles before spotting a dark figure resting against the counter behind Maria. Afraid that it was someone trying to get her attention, Wendy motioned over her shoulder. "Sorry, it looks like you've got someone…"

Her voice faded lightly when Maria moved aside an inch to glance behind her. Wendy was able to recognize that head of curly blonde hair anywhere and when her eyes met the icy blue of Marko's she felt herself go rigid. Maria looked a little chagrinned like she was caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She quickly shook her head.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to…" she licked her lips, looking flustered before gesturing between the two of them. "Marko, this is Wendy. She lives in the same building as me. Wendy, this is Marko."

"We've met," Marko said, his gaze flitting casually over Wendy's frozen form. Maria's eyebrows lifted.

"Oh," she said, tone falling flat.

"Only once," Wendy was quick to correct, afraid that she was going to somehow upset Maria with this new information. "He showed up with his brothers at the restaurant I work at. That's all."

"Oh," Maria said again, this time sounding less tense.

Wendy nodded dumbly, wishing a hole would just open up beneath her and swallow her whole. Instead, a man appeared from around the wall of TVs with a box in his hands. Wendy was sure she'd seen him before with his round glasses and plaid shirts. He must've been the owner. He paused when he noticed the line of people hovering near the counter, his eyes sliding from Marko to Maria to Wendy with a hint of suspicion.

"Is everything alright?" he asked after a moment of silence. "Maria, have you restocked the shelves yet?"

"No, not yet but I was getting ready to," she hastily replied, offering him an apologetic smile. The man's face was a blank slate for a solid five seconds before melting into a friendly smile.

"That's alright, but I trust your friend knows you're on the clock and that you have a job to do," he cast a pointed look in Wendy's direction who bit the inside of her lip, feeling appropriately scorned just by the way his eyes narrowed in her direction.

"Right," Wendy nodded. "Of course. Yes. Sorry, I should probably go," she offered Maria a brief wave, feeling equal amounts guilty and awkward, and Maria gave a half-hearted smile. At least she didn't look upset. "I'll see you later."

Wendy was about to back out of the store when she heard the man say, "That means you too."

His words were a bit stiffer as he directed his intense stare at Marko who returned the look with much more ease. He lingered on the counter a moment longer as if to emphasize his defiance before pushing away, tapping his knuckles on the surface. He broke the shared gaze with the man first and his eyes landed on Maria as he circled around the counter, the corner of his lips turning up. Maria gave him a small smile.

Marko reached Wendy where she remained standing for whatever reason in the doorway, effectively blocking the entrance. He nodded his head towards the boardwalk and Wendy stepped outside, her stomach twisting as Marko fell into step with her after casting the store one final glance over his shoulder. He was clad in his colorful jacket full of patchwork, tassels and shredded denim and Wendy was momentarily distracted by it. There were several different skulls sewn onto it along with the word ANARCHY and several other symbols her religious grandmother would've whispered a few Hail Mary's at.

Feeling uncomfortable with the silence that had fallen over them, Wendy cleared her throat before asking quietly, "Where'd you get your jacket?"

The skin between his eyebrows pinched.

"I made it."

"Really?" her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "It's… that's really impressive."

"Next time try to say that without sounding like I'm a cat that just learned how to pee in the toilet," Marko drawled. Wendy's mouth fell open and her heart sank. She quickly shook her head.

"No, I didn't mean—that's not—"

Marko laughed, his teeth flashing under the lights as his eyes crinkled. "I'm just messing with you."

"Oh," Wendy said dumbly, feeling her heart thump in her throat. "Right."

Marko had a small grin on his face like he found something terribly amusing. Wendy noticed the way his lips puckered when he grinned, almost like they were pouting without the actual frown. There was something very youthful and charming about his face that made Wendy's insides flutter and she looked away quickly before he noticed her staring.

She soon came to realize though that she wasn't the only one staring. Marko was turning heads in every direction. It was subtle but not subtle enough; a fleeting look here, a lingering stare there. It wasn't just from people Wendy's age or even girls like Wendy, it was all ages. Some of the looks were suspicious, others simply wary, while a few were curious. It completely wiped everything Wendy convinced herself of before because unless Santa Carla knew something about Marko and his brothers that Wendy didn't, everyone else was as leery as she was about them. And that was _weird_.

Marko didn't directly acknowledge the stares but it was clear they didn't bother him. That same little grin was still playing on his lips and Wendy wanted to ask what he found so funny but she couldn't build up the courage to breathe loudly, much less form words that made sense. Every time his shoulder brushed up against hers Wendy's face felt hot and she wanted to smack herself for being ridiculous.

"Your heart's beating really fast," he murmured. Wendy gave him a startled look, concerned over the fact that he was actually able to hear it. It certainly wasn't a lie but if a person could physically hear the loudness of her heartbeat wasn't that a sign of an impending heart attack? Or a chest explosion? "You need to relax."

"Everyone's staring," she whispered. She was fully justified in having a loudly beating heart! She hastily added on, "What's so interesting about you that they have to stare? Did you rob a bank?" she squinted at him. "Are you on America's Most Wanted?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," Marko quirked a playful eyebrow.

"I'm not crazy," she said, pointing an accusing finger at him. "There's something weird about all of you."

The crowd thinned out and Marko turned to face her under a streetlamp, smirking in amusement at her. Now that they were face to face Wendy realized he wasn't that much taller than her. Her skin felt jittery having him so close but she didn't want to be obvious about taking a step back so she kept the distance short. It didn't help that Marko smelled just as wonderful as his brothers and the exposed skin along his neck and collarbone looked dangerously inviting.

"That's not very nice," he chided lightly. "What's wrong with being weird?"

"Well, nothing, but…" Wendy shook her head. "That's not the point."

"Isn't it?" he tilted his head, the perfect picture of childlike innocence. "You should embrace being weird, _Wendy_."

The way his lips curled around her name made it sound both alluring and delicious, two words that had never been associated with her before.

"Are you dating Maria?" the words slipped out of her mouth before she even realized she was going to say them. "She's really nice, you know. I mean, I barely know, her but she's nice."

As if the circumstance of her niceness should've warded him off.

"I like nice girls," Marko grinned. "Are you nice, Wendy?" She tried masking her shiver for an itch on her shoulder. "Don't seem like it," Marko continued, his blue eyes studying her with a glimmer of mischief as he rocked on his heels. "You called me weird _and_ you insulted my ability to make pretty clothes."

"I didn't mean it that way," Wendy exclaimed. "It was a compliment! I _am_ a nice person."

"I don't think you are," Marko leaned close and Wendy jerked her head back, nearly hitting the back of her head against the pole. She could feel his breath fan her cheeks and her eyelashes fluttered. "I don't think you realize how _not_ nice you really are."

She had the distinct feeling he was messing with her but she couldn't help but take his comment to heart anyway. Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed quickly, releasing a timid breath when Marko finally pulled away. Naturally a mantra of _what did he mean by that?_ filtered constantly through her mind like a turnstile but she forced a neutral expression on her face, not wanting to show that his words actually got to her. Marko looked a bit like the cat that ate the canary, obviously seeing right through her.

"Okay," she relented, shoulders slumping. Maybe she'd come about this the wrong way. "I'm sorry for calling you weird," she admitted. "That was rude. And I really do like your jacket. It's very unique… like you."

She gauged his reaction carefully, almost frowning when his lips twitched.

"Hmm," he hummed before lifting his eyebrows and turning away.

Wendy watched him walk away, too stunned to immediately react, before she hurriedly chased after him. What did he mean by _that?_

Wendy was too bewildered to say anything more and Marko was still grinning when they approached Dwayne, Jules and Paul who were beginning to mount their motorcycles at the edge of the boardwalk along the pier. Wendy vaguely noted that their leader, David, was still nowhere to be found.

"There they are," Paul announced when he spotted them, still hanging onto Naomi's sunset painting as he relaxed on his bike, leaning one of his elbows on the wooden beam behind him. "We were just talking about you two. You've both got those adorable angel faces like baby cherubs. Don't they, Dwayne?"

Dwayne lifted an eyebrow but didn't say anything, giving Marko a once over that Wendy was almost certain had nothing to do with the topic at hand.

"Where were you?" Paul asked with a haughty smile. "Sniffing around your lady friend?"

"Shut up," Marko said with no heat. Wendy paused a few feet away as Marko mounted his bike, slapping away Paul's prying hands with a secretive grin. Paul then directed his abuse to Wendy, nodding in her direction with a luring smirk.

"So, how 'bout it? Wanna hitch a ride?" he lifted the painting suggestively but Wendy was too distracted by Marko's piercing gaze to pay his mockery much attention.

"No thanks," she replied offhandedly. Marko smiled slowly.

"I don't think you're the one she wants," Dwayne drawled.

Wendy flushed as the boys barked out laughs, Marko tossing Paul a grin behind his fist as he bit his thumbnail. Once again they made her feel about half her age as they laughed at her and it made her blood boil but the angry look on her face only made them laugh harder.

"Oh stop teasing her," Jules chided, though she was beaming sharply as well.

"Guess you won the wager," Paul tossed the painting to Jules as she swung her leg over Dwayne's bike, crowding against his back while holding the painting with a grudging look of acceptance. "See you 'round, Wendy Darling."

Paul saluted her with a snide chuckle that only managed to irritate her further.

She stepped back as Marko revved his motorcycle, giving her another one of his trademark stares. Just as his back tire kicked up smoke, he reached across his chest and ripped off one of the patches, tossing it at Wendy's feet before lurching after his brothers, Jules holding the painting up above her head as she whooped and howled with them while bystanders quickly darted out of their way.

Wendy watched them go feeling an odd sense of déjà vu before bending down to pick up the patch.

It was a white pair of cloth angel wings.

* * *

 **I got this out sooner than I expected and it's also a lot longer than I expected. Whew. It's eleven and I need to be up in seven hours for work so I'm going to hopefully make it to my bed and pass out. Hope you liked this one! Reviews are always welcome and appreciated. Until next time xoxo**


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